<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>We Coded The Oregon Trail With A Hole Puncher And There's Nothing You Can Do About It by aenor_llelo, Alderous, BattleBlaze, Falrisesi, Jaybird314</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657799">We Coded The Oregon Trail With A Hole Puncher And There's Nothing You Can Do About It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aenor_llelo/pseuds/aenor_llelo'>aenor_llelo</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alderous/pseuds/Alderous'>Alderous</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleBlaze/pseuds/BattleBlaze'>BattleBlaze</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falrisesi/pseuds/Falrisesi'>Falrisesi</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaybird314/pseuds/Jaybird314'>Jaybird314</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>For A Diamond Is A Marveled Thing [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Gideon You Can Tolerate, Adult Steven Universe, Alien Politics In The Background, Autistic Pines Family, Bill Cipher Commits What We Call In The Industry 'The Folly Of Hubris', Children Do Not Always Make Good Decisions, Codes &amp; Ciphers, Demonic Homophobia Isn't A Tag But It Is Now, Gemsong, Gen, Internalized Transphobia, Mabel Pines' Sweaters, Magic Dipper Pines, Magic-Users, Necromancy, Pacifica Northwest needs a hug, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Recovering Fiddleford H. McGucket, Stan Pines Is Offered Help For Once And He Takes It God-Damn It, Stan Pines is a Good Brother, Stanley Pines Runs Over An Owl, Steven The Casual Triple Shifter, Steven Universe Has PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Steven Universe is a Diamond, Steven Universe- Great At Friendship But Not At Being Human, Steven Was A Sketchy Kid Who Grew Into A Sketchy Adult, The DeMayos And The Pines Are Related, The Pines Family Are All Kind Of Wizard, The Portal (Gravity Falls), Trans Dipper Pines, Watch In Horror As I Thoroughly And Systematically Dismantle Gravity Falls Canon, When Will This Man Rest, magic lore, steven is a fusion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:08:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>45,965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aenor_llelo/pseuds/aenor_llelo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alderous/pseuds/Alderous, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleBlaze/pseuds/BattleBlaze, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falrisesi/pseuds/Falrisesi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaybird314/pseuds/Jaybird314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanley Pines makes a gamble.</p><p>Steven Universe wants to look out for his family.</p><p>Dipper and Mabel would like to just have a normal summer, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>-or-</p><p> </p><p>  <em>When Gravity Falls and earth becomes sky,</em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>beware the star of the Diamond's eye.</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bill Cipher &amp; Ford Pines, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Dipper Pines &amp; Ford Pines &amp; Mabel Pines &amp; Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket &amp; Ford Pines &amp; Shape Shifter | Experiment #210, Fiddleford H. McGucket &amp; Ford Pines &amp; Stan Pines, Ford Pines &amp; Stan Pines, Jasper &amp; Connie Maheswaran &amp; Steven Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>For A Diamond Is A Marveled Thing [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604959</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1293</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Hug, Interrupted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This work is part of a series, and requires reading <em>of</em> that series in order to understand it.</p><p> </p><p>Written by Aenor.<br/>These ciphers were custom made by Falrisesi.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A man who's exactly what he says on the tin.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Right before the end of the semester, one Mason and Mabel Pines had been sat down by their parents and told in no uncertain terms that that they would be spending their summer in Oregon with their dad's uncle, Stan Pines.</p><p> </p><p>Stan Pines was one of those people who looked exactly like they sounded- rough and loud and barrel chested, like he'd passed his younger days fighting people in back alleys for money. Except there was <em>also</em> the fact that he practically lived in a black suit, awkwardly large glasses, and An Actual God-Damn Fez. These drastically opposing attributes came together and overall made him look like some kind of vaguely eccentric mob boss.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper's not yet sure if the set-up is <em>cool</em> or stupid looking.</p><p> </p><p>"WELL HEY THERE!" Stan yells at them as soon as they get off the bus, arms raised up like he'd almost thought about giving them a hug. "If it ain't my favorite grand-niblings!"</p><p> </p><p>He ran some kind of tourist trap right out of his house, which probably explained the <em>carnival-barker--desperately-trying-to-sell-you-something</em> quality of his voice that he couldn't quite seem to turn off.</p><p> </p><p>So of course he'd charmed Mabel instantly.</p><p> </p><p>"We're your only grand-nibs, great-uncle Stan!" she laughs.</p><p> </p><p>"Great uncle?" the old man parrots incredulously. "Sweet Moses, that's a mouthful. Just call me Grunkle Stan, kids." He manages to heft each of their trunks in one hand, slowly herding them to his car. "Now if I'm rememberin' right, you twos are Mabel and Ma-"</p><p> </p><p>"DIPPER!" he manages to interrupt in time. He chokes a bit under Stan's confused surprise, coughing a bit as he turns away. "Call me, uh. Dipper. That's me. Your good ol' grand-nephew Dipper."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh god, please don't ask, please don't ask-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper it is then!" Stan laughs. "You takin' after the gizmo on your face or somethin'?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper narrows his eyes. "How do you know about that?"</p><p> </p><p>"I was there when you two freeloaders were born, 'course I know about the permanent shiner on your noggin!"</p><p> </p><p>So they <em>had</em> met him before. At least they weren't staying with a <em>total</em> stranger.</p><p> </p><p>He was kind of nice, even, in a sort of... big bouldering dog way.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe staying here won't be so bad after all.</p><p> </p><p>"Now let's get into my rickety old car and drive to my suspiciously isolated cabin in the woods!"</p><p> </p><p><em>And</em> the moment's gone.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ZHOFRPH WR JUDYLWB IDOOV</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Define Insane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So he must be crazy, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Sometimes, Stanley wonders if he's gone the route of one Stanford Filbrick Pines and sailed well and truly off his rocker.</p><p> </p><p>He's got a nice house, even if it's just as creaky and battered as he is. His work commute is great- can't get much better than walking two steps to the right.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, he still gets arrested <em>sometimes</em>, when the bad habits of his grifter days rear their ugly heads again, but being arrested in Gravity Falls is more of a formality at this point. He's charmed this town a hundred times over and then some, and they ain't driving him out any time soon.</p><p> </p><p>He's not exactly hurting for cash. He rakes in, what- 60,000 a year- every year, for thirty years.</p><p> </p><p>Hell, he could retire now, leave the shack to Soos. Jesus Ramirez- employee of the year, every year, ten years over. Mr. Mystery would live on in good hands. (It ain't the legacy Dad would've asked of him, but it was <em>his</em> and his alone.)</p><p> </p><p>Stanley Romanoff Pines could wake up tomorrow, say <em>fuck it</em>, and quietly exit life.</p><p> </p><p>So he must be insane, right?</p><p> </p><p>...Because he never retires.</p><p> </p><p>Because he hangs onto this rickety house like he's the warden and prisoner all in one, and every fucking night he goes down into his creepy murder basement and tries to hack out a hole puncher to reality on a third of the instructions.</p><p> </p><p>Grade. A. Fucking. Insane.</p><p> </p><p>And then he just goes back to the daily grind the next day with a smile on his face, because if he's gonna be crazy, he's gonna keep it contained in the basement and Absolutely No Fucking Place Else, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>If he's gonna be insane, it's 'cause he's <em>seen</em> some shit. Life's tossed him up and over on one hell of a ride, and some stuff stuck to him along the way. So he learns things. He notices things.</p><p> </p><p>Like the big guy in the back of the tour group who doesn't look like he's planning on leaving like the rest of them.</p><p> </p><p>An old Dondai stays behind when all the other cars have left. A big guy in a beanie dallies about the gift shop, and Stanley quietly tells Wendy to end her shift early.</p><p> </p><p>(Soos doesn't leave. Soos is a strong kid and he knows what's up. If shit gets ugly, Soos knows how to handle it.)</p><p> </p><p>"If you're tryin' to rob me," Stan flatly calls out, "I've got a baseball bat under the register and an entire forest to bury your body in."</p><p> </p><p>"I-" The guy actually <em>jumps</em> a little at being talked to. "-I'm not robbing you? I don't think so. Are you-" His eyes flick briefly to Soos, and back to Stanley. "-are you Stanley Pines?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Soos, why don't you pack up for today."</p><p> </p><p>"Mr. Pines, are you sure-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Go home, Soos.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>With one last look at the two of them, Soos finally leaves in his truck.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, kid, I'll bite. Where the fuck did you hear that name."</p><p> </p><p>The guy steps closer and <em>holy hell</em> he's huge. He's only reasonably tall, but he's broad enough to take Corduroy any day of the week. (That's alright- Stanley's fought bigger.)</p><p> </p><p>"I got your address from Alice and Norman." <em>Shermie's boy.</em> "But I heard about you from Andy."</p><p> </p><p>Andy DeMayo- a technically-nephew about his own age, from Alice's side. They'd known eachother even back before they somehow ended up in-laws. Andy was a good guy.</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe I <em>am</em> Stanley Pines," he just barely concedes. "But what's it to you?"</p><p> </p><p>"A matter of security more than anything."</p><p> </p><p>"What are you-"</p><p> </p><p>And the guy <em>changes.</em></p><p> </p><p>All pretense of human form falls away. He is fangs and claws and unnatural colors. He opens his jacket with a slight sigh, and his shirt opens just enough to reveal the gem on his belly. His eyes have stayed exactly the same- dark, inhuman diamonds.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck are <em>you</em> doing here?" Stanley wonders. "Aren't you still dealing with that bullshit in Manhattan?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." The Diamond blinks. "Most people don't recognize me right away."</p><p> </p><p>"I ain't blind or stupid. There's kids learning about you in school before they learn about the <em>president</em>, for fuck's sake."</p><p> </p><p>"No need to be so harsh on people," the Gem smiles, "they just see what they expect to see most times."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that's the stupid."</p><p> </p><p>"Geez, Stanley," the Gem laughs. "Have some respect."</p><p> </p><p>"You ain't killed me yet." Stanley narrows his eyes. "And you still haven't told me why you're here."</p><p> </p><p>"Like I said, security reasons." The Gem runs a hand through his (Hers? Theirs? <em>Its?</em> He should probably ask) pale rosy hair. "The DeMayos are my human family. That'd include <em>you</em>, from Alice's side. What with me getting dragged out into the human public sphere now, I need to get ahead of the curve. So..." he shrugs tiredly, "I'm checking in. Letting you know our connection."</p><p> </p><p>"Family, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's weird, I know. We don't have to... <em>connect</em>, or anything. But I just wanted to let you know the option's there."</p><p> </p><p>And Stanley Pines is a gambling man.</p><p> </p><p>Not that that's unique. Anyone can be a gambling man. But here's the thing.</p><p> </p><p>He's never lost a gamble in his life. Not once. And even when he did, it was all for the better. A knack, a nudge, a voice in his head that's a bit more wizard than he'd like to admit that says <em>go for it</em>, and he's learned over the years that it does him good to listen.</p><p> </p><p>He's a gambling man, and a damn good one too.</p><p> </p><p>But he was a family man first.</p><p> </p><p>And the gambler's voice in his head says that this guy- this strange alien with a strange voice who smiles shy and calls humans foreign words like <em>family</em>- he's a family man, too.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So tell me, stranger, how far are you willing to go for your family?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stanley Pines makes a gamble.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, come here," he motions, sauntering over to the vending machine. "I wanna show you something."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>considering the stunts stan can afford to pull together for the shack, I imagine he's actually pretty well off. it's just the old habits of his former near-homeless life that keep him living cheap.</p><p>and here we have the first cipher! which was created by Falrisesi. it's a straight to English type (for now)- we'll give you one solved piece every chapter, and you'll slowly be able to deduce the meaning of the other letters as the story goes on. Share your results with eachother! Solve the mysteryTM.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Big Breakfast "Burgalar"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>No, this isn't a home invasion, <em>put the bat down, Stanley-</em></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>There's someone in the kitchen when Dipper and Mabel go down for breakfast. A man cooking pancakes turns briefly to stare at them. "Mornin'."</p><p> </p><p>"Is this-" Dipper stutters, "-is this a home invasion?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>ARE YOU SOME KIND OF BREAKFAST-BASED BURGLAR! </em>" Mabel screams.</p><p> </p><p>"Uhh…"</p><p> </p><p>A series of loud thumps barrel down the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>"WHERE IS IT!" Stan barks harshly, iron bat at hand. "WHERE'S THE SON-OF-A- oh, it's you."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, Stanley," the strange man smiles.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Stanley? </em>" Dipper wonders. "Dad said your name was Stanford."</p><p> </p><p>Grunkle Stan(ley?) snorts as he grabs the newspaper. "I just let people <em>assume </em>my name is Stanford. I'm too lazy to prove 'em wrong." Stan takes in the look on his face with a sharp click of his tongue. "Jeez, kid. It's not that complicated. It ain't a conspiracy or somethin'."</p><p> </p><p>"That still doesn't explain who this guy is. Or what he's doing in our house."</p><p> </p><p>"Well look alive, freeloaders." Stan takes the coffee waiting for him on the counter and slaps the guy's chest with his paper. "Meet yer uncle Az. He stayin' with me over the summer to help with the shack so I have more time for family. Be nice."</p><p> </p><p>'Uncle Az' was a soft faced, vaguely Italian looking guy who somehow managed to be bigger and broader than <em>Soos</em>, and honestly looked like he should have had a way deeper voice than he actually spoke with. A wine dark beanie nested vaguely on his dark brown, curling hair, framing a friendly, freckled face and large brows. His night dark button-up was scattered with squares of all kinds of pink, and his purple pants were tucked into a formidable pair of boots.</p><p> </p><p>His hands have tattoos, Dipper vaguely notices. Geometric flowers, strange swooping bracelet shapes, and the shape of a diamond on his index fingers. He's got earrings, too- white flowers that Mabel would know the name of, probably.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel is, naturally, <em>disappointingly</em>, instantly taken with him.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Hello, soft mystery marshmallow man,</em>" Mabel whispers, awed.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Hello, total stranger I've never met or heard of in my life,</em>" Dipper whispers under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, kids," Az calls out. Now that Dipper hears it more, the man kind of has a sing-song voice. Weird. "Mabel and-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nope, nope, nope, nope-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"-Mason, right?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," Dipper mutters, subdued but not particularly upset. "That's me. How'd you know my- my name?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah," Az flips another pancake onto a waiting tray, "I met with your parents a few weeks back, they told me about you."</p><p> </p><p>"Huh."</p><p> </p><p>If Stan has anything to say about the topic of names, he doesn't say it, taking a bite of his breakfast. "Az, I was kidding when I said I wanted a bourbon pancake."</p><p> </p><p>"You complaining?"</p><p> </p><p>"...Y'know what? No, I'm not."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"You weren't supposed to call me Stanley."</p><p> </p><p>"They'll figure it out anyway. Besides, isn't the entire point of this so you wont have to use <em>that</em> name anymore? Might as well start now."</p><p> </p><p>"You say that like it'll work."</p><p> </p><p>"I think it will, Stanley."</p><p> </p><p>"...You're right. I'm just... No one's called me my own name for thirty years now."</p><p> </p><p>"Then we've got a lot of catching up to do, Stanley."</p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Is This Gonna Be Anything Like Our Last Family Bonding Day?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steven goes fishing for the first time. Stan makes a friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Dipper huddles in on himself as Stan's El Diablo careens to the side. "Blindfolds never lead to anything good," he shivers.</p><p> </p><p>"Wow," Mabel whispers, mystified as she revels in her temporary blindness. "I feel like all my other senses are heightened." Her thin hands suddenly roam his face. "<em>I can see with my fingers.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper can't help but laugh as he blindly pushes her away. The car shakes again.</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan," Dipper half whines, "are <em>you</em> wearing a blindfold?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nah," he laughs, "but with these cataracts I might as well be!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Uncle Az...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>There's a shifting sound as Az probably turns back around to look at the twins. "Don't worry about it, it's fine. Bit of a grind to the road is all. Besides," he continues, "<em>I'm </em>not blindfolded, so we can just Sta<em>NLEY, WATCH THE DEER-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan, why do you wanna <em>bond</em> with us all of the sudden?"</p><p> </p><p>"Come on," the man cajoles, "this is gonna be great!" His face trails down, uncertain. "I- I've never had fishin' buddies before. The guys from the lodge won't go with me- they don't <em>like </em>or <em>trust </em>me," Stanley sarcastically adds on with little quotations.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel looks... oddly concerned. "I think he actually wants to <em>fish</em> with us."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ouch. That hurts.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jeez- sure, he mighta been... maybe a bit <em>awkward</em> these past days. He can charm customers all day, but that's all it is- charm. He's never been as good at the actual social stuff people really do. Too loud, too friendly, too weird, the list went on forever. But really, he's been <em>tryin</em><em>' </em>for these kids.</p><p> </p><p>Guess he still hasn't hit the mark. Not even the hand stitched hats can save him now. (Az seemed to like his, though.)</p><p> </p><p>"I brought the joke book," he half sings.</p><p> </p><p><em>And</em> the kids 've got caged-animal looks on their faces now. Dang it.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Attention all units," Blubs smirks as he tips his hat, "we got a <em>crazy old man</em>."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Aw, not this shit again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stanley won't bother laughing like the rest of them. It's right cruel, it is. But it's not like he can do anything about it and <em>oh he does <span class="u">not</span> like the look on Az's face right now.</em></p><p> </p><p>The man cuts to the front of the crowd, shielding McGucket with his broad self. "That's enough, you guys. We shouldn't laugh."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, come on," a voice floats out, "you don't actually believe this guy, do ya?"</p><p> </p><p>"What does it matter, huh?" Jeez- there's something a bit hurt in the Gem's eyes, and it's kind of upsetting to watch. "I don't care what he saw, but it scared the mind outta him! Y'don't laugh at people when they're scared and upset, it-" he trails off, suddenly shier now. "It isn't right."</p><p> </p><p>Laughter peters out and the group scatters.</p><p> </p><p>"Damn," Stanley mutters, "Ya really killed the crowd. You, uh...." Az still looks kind of disturbed. "...you okay there? Y'seem a bit, I don't know, keyed up about this."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine, I just..." Az takes a long, deep breath. "...it just got a bit too real for me. Sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey uncles!" Mabel shouts.</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan," Dipper smiles in a deceptively casual way, "change of plans! We're taking <em>that</em> boat to Scuttlebutt Island, and <em>we're </em>gonna find that Gobblewonker!"</p><p> </p><p>"Monster hunt!" The twins chant. "Monster hunt, monster hunt-"</p><p> </p><p>"Monster... hunt?" Az asks, like a kid waiting to be corrected. "Mason, I'm not sure that's-"</p><p> </p><p>A ship honks it's horn.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey dudes," Soos calls out from his deck. "You say somethin' about a monster?"</p><p> </p><p><em>And </em>they're gone. Yep. The kids are sold already. Sometimes Stanley wishes Soos were just a little less approachable.</p><p> </p><p>"Darn ingrates," Stanley mutters. Az's watches Soos' boat prepare to leave with worried eyes. "You can go, y'know."</p><p> </p><p>"I..." Az stutters, then sighs. "...no. Soos will be able to keep an eye on them." He smiles, almost. "Besides, I've never gone fishing before."</p><p> </p><p>"What, you really wanna be stuck here with me and my joke book for ten hours?"</p><p> </p><p>"I do, actually."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"The jokes are stupid."</p><p> </p><p>"Jokes on you, I love stupid."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm probably gonna get awkward."</p><p> </p><p>"So will I."</p><p> </p><p>"Seriously, you're gonna be stuck with an old man all day."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm older than you."</p><p> </p><p><em>That </em>gives Stanley pause. "Wait, really?"</p><p> </p><p>"Kind of?" Az answers uncertainly. "It's complicated."</p><p> </p><p>An uncertain drawl interrupts their awkward not-an-argument. "Hey, uh, fellas?"</p><p> </p><p>It's McGucket.</p><p> </p><p>"I, uh..." he fiddles his hat nervously. "...I-I appreciatin' what ya done did earlier. A-a-ain't anybody stuck out fer me like that in a good long while."</p><p> </p><p>"Well they <em>should</em>," Az insists. "You okay after all that?"</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, it weren't not' 'in I weren't used to," McGucket smiles. " 'sides, I was-a plannin' on takin' my repressed up frustrations and abandonment issues with my 15-ton aquatic rob-ot that I stored behind the waterfall!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Is he joking?</em>" Az whispers. "<em>Is this one of those human jokes I'm not getting?</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>He's not,</em>" Stanley whispers back, "<em>He's really not. I've seen his robot shit man, it's somethin' else.</em>" He raises his voice back up again. "Sounds uh, sounds pretty next level compared to the previous stuff you've done. How'd ya manage <em>that?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Well first I just hootenannied up a biomechanical brainwave generator," McGucket suddenly articulates like it was the simplest thing in the world, "and then I learned to operate a stick-shift with ma beard!"</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"In retrospect," McGucket concedes, a blank look in his eyes, "it does seems a bit contrived."</p><p> </p><p>Stanley and Az share a look.</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Stanley haltingly offers, "we got ten hours to spare."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Well I-" MckGucket taps his foot nervously on the deck. "I wouldn'tve be wantin' to hambone yer' boat to capsize, yer lookin' a bit rickety."</p><p> </p><p>"This boat won't be sinking while I stand in it," Az cryptically reassures.</p><p> </p><p>"I- I suppose it <em>has </em>been a while since I gone fishin'." McGucket's smile turns almost wry for a moment- wry and clear, with a challenge in there. "And I <em>recall</em> a certain Stan Pines braggin' to everyone in full ear-shootin how he could thread a hook with 'is eyes closed."</p><p> </p><p>"That's the spirit."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Someone Entirely New</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steven pops back to Little Homeworld to check in on a kid named Steven.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Crimson Carbide Facet-AD1 Pavillion-1.</p><p> </p><p>Gem type- Classified.</p><p>Kindergarten- Classified.</p><p>Age...</p><p> </p><p>...he will later be listed as emerged on August 15, 2012, when the date finally passes. No current independent occupation- this Gem is currently registered under Little Homeworld's program, serving directly under the colonial overseer in a blacksmith apprenticeship.</p><p> </p><p>That is the publically available data.</p><p> </p><p>Here's the classified data. The kind that doesn't exist on any database. The kind only known by the colonial overseer of Earth (Bismuth is <em>good</em>- reliable and steady in a way few Gems have been to him) and Steven himself.</p><p> </p><p>Crimson Carbide is under the direct aegis of His Radiance, Asteria Diamond.</p><p> </p><p>Crimson Carbide's name- his <em>name</em>, not file- is Connor Amaranth Adamas Briar Universe. That was the name given to him.</p><p> </p><p>He was born on August 15, 1991 to the name Steven Quartz Universe, and when he was twelve years old, he was ripped out of time. (A funny little thing, an Hourglass.)</p><p> </p><p>He wandered for eight years in a world that never belonged to him until...</p><p> </p><p>...until.</p><p> </p><p>Well... Steven- Steven-Who-Is-Asteria-Diamond, that is- he doesn't quite know what happened then. (Yes he does. He knows in slow, intimate detail exactly what happened to this boy. He just doesn't want to think about it. If he does, he might scream, and never, ever stop.)</p><p> </p><p>And then Asteria Diamond happened. Not Steven-Who-Is-Asteria-Diamond- another Diamond, another time. A Diamond so torn by grief he broke time and let it die with him, all to save a wayward child who by all rights shouldn't have existed in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Take care of him, Steven.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Asteria and Connor are the same age. (No they're not- Pink Diamond is Rose Quartz is Steven Universe, a song 4 gyrs long, and Connor hasn't aged a day since he was ripped from his life.)</p><p> </p><p>They have the same gem. (No they don't- Connor's gem has a sickly, overclocked glow, covered in scratches and gouges that patch with strange crimson scars even after the densest application of ichors, and it is only the remnants of a Diamond's resilience that his gem does not shatter while he stands.)</p><p> </p><p>They even look mostly the same- Connor may has well have been a mirror of his younger self. (Not quite- Connor is more thin, more sharp in the face- whether it's injury, illness, or just being plain deprived, Steven isn't quite sure.)</p><p> </p><p>He didn't quite recognize the child as himself, at first. (Sometimes he has trouble recognizing younger pictures of himself. He knows that it's a predictable side effect of his balancing, the rooted and very <em>gem </em>concept of his self-image- but still, he tries not to think about it. It's an unsettling thought.)</p><p> </p><p>"Who picked out those clothes for me?" Connor asks.</p><p> </p><p>Connor's song is flat, halting, stilted, <strike>dead</strike>. Entire chords, gone. It's improved slightly, since Steven saw him last, but he strongly suspects it's permanent, now.</p><p> </p><p>"You didn't know I was coming." Connor's suspicion... <em>hurts,</em> a bit, but it's understandable. "But you gave me clothes that fit me, that I would have liked."</p><p> </p><p>"The, uh- the other me, the one that brought you here, he gave them to me. From what I can remember, someone picked them out- someone you would have known, in his time. I think you were friends?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You might have been more than friends, or at least on the path to it. I never did know for sure. <strike>You didn't live long enough to tell me.</strike></em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I-" Connor suddenly strangles his mouth in his hands, eyes afraid. (Of all the things they could have shared- Steven would have hoped Connor wasn't going to grow into <em>his</em> particular brand of nervous ticks.)</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, hey." He raises a peaceful hand. "Don't stop yourself on my account. I'm not..." his song shouldn't break over something so small, but break it does, "...I won't <em>hurt you</em> for asking questions. Or saying something I didn't like."</p><p> </p><p>"Even if you get mad?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Especially</em> if I get mad." He leans back in his chair. "I'm a <em>Diamond</em>, Connor." <em>So are you. </em>"I can't- if I hurt people every time I got mad, I'd <em>break</em> them. I can't afford that."</p><p> </p><p>"I bet-I bet-I bet you'd-" Connor's voice is flat, even in its stutter, but his face has an uneasy, teasing tilt to it. "<em>You'd </em>c-cry if you bumped into someone by accident."</p><p> </p><p>"Says who?"</p><p> </p><p>"Says <em>you,</em>" Connor not-quite-laughs. "I remember what we were like."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Thanks, kid, I really appreciate it.</em>" He leans back forward. "But don't dodge the dike. You had words."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh. Yeah. I was just..." Connor's song gets small. "...<em>wonderin' where you go when you're not here, is all.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>All that nervousness, just to ask him where he goes when he's gone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Jeez, Connor. You're gonna break my heart one of these days.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Eh, nothing too interesting. Little Homeworld stuff. Leftover Chitauri things." Steven's song doesn't have a note of tease in it. He'll deny it till the Peridots come home. "Build an interdimensional portal in somebody's basement."</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Bullshit."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"No, I don't know what you're talking about, I totally help an old man who wears a fez-"</p><p> </p><p>"People actually wear those?"</p><p> </p><p>"-build a functioning hole puncher to reality under his tourist trap in Oregon." He sips his pine tea with a smile. "I would never lie to you."</p><p> </p><p>"Sounds fake, but ok."</p><p> </p><p>"Ouch. That hurts. Show your Diamond some respect."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>You're not my Diamond-</em>" Connor snarks.</p><p> </p><p>"I <em>am</em> your Diamond, kid, I've got the paperwork to prove it-"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No cipher this chapter, since this chapter doesn't take place in Gravity Falls- it takes place in Little Homeworld. Steven's a busy guy who needs to be in a lot of different places.</p><p>when you've gotten to know him a little more, i'll write a meta about connor.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Normal Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mabel meets Norman again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Mabel?"</p><p> </p><p>She turns to see the vaguely built figure, buried in a hoodie that came over his head, of-</p><p> </p><p>"NORMAN?" <em>Ugh. Seriously? </em>"I told you guys, I <em>don't </em>want to be your queen!"</p><p> </p><p>'Norman', for his part, actually shrinks back. "I don't- I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, you do <em>not</em> get to pull that on me, you stupid gnomes-"</p><p> </p><p>"Gnomes?" The guy actually looks... confused. "What are you talking about?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wait a fucking second.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Show me your arm."</p><p> </p><p>He suddenly pulls back, clutching his sleeves. "Hey, what's the idea-"</p><p> </p><p>"Just do it!"</p><p> </p><p>With wide, wavering eyes, he gives her one of his arms. She pulls his sleeve up and <em>oh, woah.</em></p><p> </p><p>Something in his form shimmers. The pale, bloodless tone of his skin falls away to something rough and white. His arm is vined with... vines. Vines of green, of leaves, patterns of birch's eyes. What would have been the palms of his hands feels like tree bark.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes are looking absolutely everywhere but her, and he almost looks like he's about to cry.</p><p> </p><p>"Norman... I-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>I'm sorry,</em>" his voice wobbles, and <em>oh gosh she feels like a jerk right now.</em> "I wasn't trying to trick you, I just-" he pulls his hoodie down over his face. "I just wanted to be friends..."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, hey." She pulls the fabric of his hood up again. "I'm not mad."</p><p> </p><p>"You're- you're not?"</p><p> </p><p>"Psh, nah." She flaps her hands nervously. "I just- I just wanted to be sure it was you." She shudders with disgust. "A bunch of gnomes pretended to be you and tried to marry me."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." He blinks. "So that's what happened to my human clothes those days back. It took me <em>hours</em> to find them again, and when I went to our spot..."</p><p> </p><p>"...I was already gone." She awkwardly tugs her hair. "Aw, jeez. You must have thought I stood you up."</p><p> </p><p>"A little..."</p><p> </p><p>"So," she segways, "since you're not a bunch of gnomes... what <em>are</em> you, exactly?"</p><p> </p><p>"I- uh- I didn't think you'd wanna see."</p><p> </p><p>"I already half saw it just now," she sighs. "Might as well clear it up."</p><p> </p><p>He lifts his hood and the last bit of his illusion falls away. His hair is leaves and twine, there's a green tinge on his white face, and his eyes are <em>red.</em> Like, candy-apples red.</p><p> </p><p>Norman squirms a little under her scrutiny. </p><p> </p><p>A silence falls.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>You're like a forest fairy,</em>" she whispers. "That's so COOL!"</p><p> </p><p>"Y-" He jumps at her enthusiasm. "You think so?"</p><p> </p><p>"HECK YEAH I DO! I have a forest friend now!"</p><p> </p><p>"We're... we're still friends?"</p><p> </p><p>"You bet!"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I just make Norman an actual character?</p><p> </p><p>  <em>perhaps</em></p><p>(Edit: made a minor HECC in the cipher which has now been fixed. Mistake Requiem)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. One Dapper Little Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A Diamond couldn't fit in a tent like that.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>"The tiger was badly injured in the explosion, but we repaired him..."</em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>"WITH A FIST!"</em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Az giggles. It's a bubbly, musical sound. "How do people come up with this stuff?"</p><p> </p><p>"Don't know, don't care," Dipper chants. "But I love it. Tiger is a hero!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"TIGER FIST will return after these messages."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Oh hey," Soos nudges Az, "It's that commercial I was telling you guys about."</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">"<em>Are you completely miserable? Then you need to meet... Gideon.</em>"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>"Gideon?" Dipper parrots.</p><p> </p><p>"What makes him so special?" Mabel rhetorically asks.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u">"He's a psychic!"</span> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"A psychic?" Az turns the word in his mouth like a foreign concept. "What's that supposed to mean?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, it's like, these guys who tell people they can, uh," Soos gestures at his head, "read minds and see the future, stuff like that."</p><p> </p><p>"Humans have stuff like that?"</p><p> </p><p>Soos laughs. "Not really. It's all part of a show, like Mr. Pines' stuff."</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>"Learn about tomorrow tonight, at Gideon's Tent of Telepathy! <strike>Void where prohibited, no COD's accepted. Carla I've always loved you but never had the guts to say it.</strike>" </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>"Huh." Az tilts his head with a slow blink. "I'm kinda interested now." He looks down at the kids. "Y'all wanna go down later? Could be fun."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel wiggles in her perch on the arm of the chair. "I'm getting all curious-y inside!"</p><p> </p><p>"Well don't get <em>too</em> curious-y." Stan walks into the living room and moves his suit jacket on the antlers of the coat rack. "Ever since that monster Gideon rolled into town, I've had nothin' but trouble."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel jumps up regardless. "Well, is he really psychic?"</p><p> </p><p>"I think we should go and find out," Dipper suggests.</p><p> </p><p>"Never!" Stan barks while he undoes his tie. "You are <em>forbidden </em>from patronizing the competition." He points an accusing finger at the group. "No one that lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon's roof."</p><p> </p><p>"C'mon, Stanley," Az insists. "Let 'em at it." His smile has an indulgent tilt. "We can tell you all about how fake it is afterwards."</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine," Stan grits his teeth. "But I'm comin' with ya, then. Y'aint sufferin' his psychic fuckery alone, not on my watch."</p><p> </p><p>"That's the spirit."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know," Az muses as they take their seats, "this kind of reminds me of a circus I saw once."</p><p> </p><p>"What was someone like you doing in a circus?" Stanley wonders.</p><p> </p><p>"Eh, I was travelling at the time-"</p><p> </p><p>"It's starting," Mabel cuts as she clutches at her popcorn. "It's starting!"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper crosses his arms. "Let's see what this 'monster' looks like."</p><p> </p><p>The curtain draws back to unveil... a small child. A round, pale, freckled child, no older than ten, in a little powder blue suit.</p><p> </p><p>Az's raised eyebrow isn't quite judgmental, but <em>still. </em>"Your business rival is a child."</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, don't even start."</p><p> </p><p>"Hello America!" calls a mild Southern drawl. "My name is Lil' Gideon."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>A child, Stanley.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"You'll see," Stanley squints at the stage. "You'll see."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>The child starts doing a little song. It's a cute, simple song that has the crowd moving their heads along with it. Not exactly <em>insidious kid rival </em>material.</p><p> </p><p>And then he moves up to the front of the stage and Steven suddenly feels a <em>pull</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on everybody, rise up!" Gideon raises his hand, the other on his heart. "I want y'all to keep it goin' !"</p><p> </p><p>He sees the crowd rise and he <em>feels it.</em> A push, a pull- a sudden inclination to rise up out of his seat. Barely a brush against a Diamond's mind, but it was there.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>A bit troubling.</em>
</p><p>
  <b>A bit <em>weak</em> for my taste.</b>
</p><p>
  <em><b></b>Play along, Vendan.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He rises, if only to keep from standing out in the crowd, and catches Stanley's eyes. The man stands stiff, arms crossed even as his feet comply with the rhythm of the song, and when he find's Steven's own eyes he nods grimly.</p><p> </p><p>"Now you get it," Stanley whispers.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I always thought the antler coat rack in the shack was a neat little detail</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Falling In Love With You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A disaster in miniature, or something like that.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Hey!" Mabel gently slaps her uncle's face. "Hey, Az."</p><p> </p><p>"Wha-" Her uncle blearily raises his head from the table, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He finally looks at her and jumps back, hands clenching against the table with an audible scratch.</p><p> </p><p>"Haha! Gotcha."</p><p> </p><p>"Why..." Az's face looks mildly <em>disturbed</em>, almost. "<em>Why are there tiny gems everywhere? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"It's rhinestones!" She holds up a glue gun. "I successfully bedazzled my face!" She blinks agonizingly slow, cringing past the rhinestones on her eyelids. "Blink. Ow."</p><p> </p><p>"Is that... permanent?" he murmurs, horrified.</p><p> </p><p>Her face turns weary at his lack of amusement. "I'm unappreciated in my time..."</p><p> </p><p>The doorbell sounds.</p><p> </p><p>"Somebody get that door!" Stan yells.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll get it!" Mabel shouts back, pawing the shine off her face.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Dipper watches Az slowly sink back into his large arms, falling asleep at the table again.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at Soos. "Peep War?"</p><p> </p><p>"Peep War," Soos nods solemnly.</p><p> </p><p>The concept of Peep War is very simple. It requires two Peeps, and two plastic sword picks. Stab the sword hilts into the little marshmallow birds, put the two on a plate, and set them in a microwave. The swords will move as the marshmallows melt, until one Peep stabs the other.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, Soos found an even better trick to it, too. If one butters the plate beforehand, the Peeps will also move and spin around on the plate. Truly, the higher from of war.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper opens up the Peeps package.</p><p> </p><p>"Soos, you've met Az before we did, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah dude, saw him by the Shack like a week-ish before you dudes showed up."</p><p> </p><p>They carefully select their sword picks.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you think anything's like... weird about him?"</p><p> </p><p>"Everyone in this town's kinda weird, man."</p><p> </p><p>"No, I mean-"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper contemplates the proper angle to put his sword at.</p><p> </p><p>"-like, <em>weird </em>weird."</p><p> </p><p>"You gonna have to be more specific."</p><p> </p><p>The buttered plate is readied.</p><p> </p><p>"I dunno, just in general. Like, his voice? What's up with that? He sounds like he's singing half the time."</p><p> </p><p>"Not like people can choose what they sound like, dude."</p><p> </p><p>They place their Peeps so that their swords just start to cross.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, but like- something's just off about him. He's nice, I guess, but- I don't know."</p><p> </p><p>Ser Bloop and Ser Plonk spin in the microwave, ready to die with glory.</p><p> </p><p>"And he never blinks! Have you noticed that!"</p><p> </p><p>"You got a point there, I guess."</p><p> </p><p>The little bird bodies start to skate on the butter.</p><p> </p><p>"He forgets words, too? Like, the other day Mabel had to tell him that "orthodontist" was a real word. Not even the word, he couldn't wrap his head around the concept."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah. He does do that, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>They stay quiet for a bit.</p><p> </p><p>"My thought, dude?" Soos rests his chin on his hand. "Dude's probably an immigrant or something. Or a second generation type. He reminds me of my abuelita sometimes."</p><p> </p><p>"Really? I was thinking he was some kind of werewolf adjacent creature. Or a strangely daylight immune vampire."</p><p> </p><p>"Could be an alien."</p><p> </p><p>"Pff. No way. What would an alien be doing in Gravity Falls?"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Intervene.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>If all this keeps up, he's gonna have to intervene.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"-I was in the friendzone. And then before I knew what was happening," Mabel whines, "he pulled me into the romance zone! It was like quicksand!" She pulls him close. "<em>Chubby quicksand.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Mabel," Dipper smiles with a hand on her shoulder, "come on, it's not like you're gonna have to <em>marry Gideon</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Great news, Mabel!" Stan shouts from the living room entrance. "You have to marry Gideon! It's all part of an arrange-ow-ow-ow-ow-"</p><p> </p><p>Az at some point had walked up behind Stan from the hall and started yanking him by the ear until he stopped talking.</p><p> </p><p>"Jeez, ow." Stan rubs the back of his head. "I was kidding."</p><p> </p><p>But Mabel was already screaming up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Stan asks. "What did I say?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper sighs.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Knock knock knock." Hearing no answer, Steven edges the door open and finds Mabel, huddled in the corner, the neck of her sweater pulled past her face as she rocks back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, Mabel."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mabel's not here,</em>" she mumbles past the fabric. "<em>She's in sweater town...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Are you gonna leave town anytime soon?"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel lets out a vague whine.</p><p> </p><p>He takes to kneel down next to her. "Then I'll be sweater town, too." He pulls his wine-red beanie over his eyes. "Well... hat town, more like, but close enough, eh?"</p><p> </p><p>She laughs a little, at least, so score.</p><p> </p><p>"You wanna tell me what happened?"</p><p> </p><p>"Gideon, he..." she takes a watery breath. "...he's my friend. I <em>wanna</em> be friends, he's so <em>nice</em>, but he doesn't <em>want</em> to be friends, he wants a girlfriend. I went on a few dates with him to be nice, but now I can't say no and," she sounds like she's crying, "<em>I don't know what to do...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, <em>mimma</em>." He reaches out to place a hand on her head. "Are you about to have another date soon? Is that why you got upset?"</p><p> </p><p>She moves her head under his hand.</p><p> </p><p>"I think that was a nod, but I've blinded myself under this hat, so I can't tell."</p><p> </p><p>She giggles. "Yeah, I... yeah. Tonight."</p><p> </p><p>"Do you want to go?"</p><p> </p><p>"I can't just stand him up-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Do you want to go.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>A pause. "<em>No...</em> I don't."</p><p> </p><p>"Then don't."</p><p> </p><p>"But-"</p><p> </p><p>He interrupts with a harsh set of rolling clicks. "No. No <em>but</em>. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."</p><p> </p><p>"I don't want to leave him hanging... it's mean."</p><p> </p><p>"If you're going to feel bad the whole time, that's just being mean to <em>both of you</em> if you show up anyway. You can explain yourself tomorrow when you feel a little less upset, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>She sniffles. "Okay." She slaps the beanie off his head. "And get outta hat town! I can't take you seriously like this!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, good. Please take me seriously never."</p><p> </p><p><em>"Az!</em> " There she is. The dumb, graceless laugh on her face as she playfully punches him. "You weirdo!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, laugh. Laugh at my expert human comedies-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Stop that, you can't just say 'human joke' every time you do something weird-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes I can," he trills.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Noooooo….</em>"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Ay, Az." Stan cranes his neck around until he finds Steven at the living room table. "Have you seen Dipper around? If he doesn't show up soon, he doesn't get to pick what goes on the pizza."</p><p> </p><p>"He's not here?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nope." Stan frowns a bit. "Actually, I haven't seen him since he went out earlier."</p><p> </p><p>"At <em>this </em>hour?"</p><p> </p><p>"It was a little while ago. I thought he would've been back by now." Stan backs into the gift shop entrance. "<em>SOOS! You seen the kid around?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"<em>No, sir, Mr. Pines!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>Mabel comes down the stairs. "Why is Grunkle Stan shouting?"</p><p> </p><p>Steven holds his hands together. "Mason went out and he hasn't come back. I don't know what he'd be doing at this-"</p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh no.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Oh dear.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>He can't have honestly-</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>But he has, hasn't he?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no," he whispers. "Oh no, no, no-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>He didn't,</em>" Mabel tries to say. "<em>He can't have, Gideon wouldn't-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Gideon?" Stan pipes up. "What does this have to do with Gideon?" A pause. "If he put his fat little paws on my boy, I'm gonna garrote 'im by 'is bolo tie!"</p><p> </p><p>"No, no, no!" Mabel flaps her hands as she gasps. "This is my fault, I-"</p><p> </p><p>"NOPE!" Bad move, Steven. Don't shout. Bad. "Nobody's at fault here, we are going to <em>find Mason</em> and everything will be <strong>fine!</strong>" He looks between the three of them. "We need a car, we'll take mine-"</p><p> </p><p>"We might need to go offroad, that's not gonna cut it. SOOS!" Stan shouts. "WE NEED THE TRUCK!"</p><p> </p><p>"I, I-" Soos flounders for a moment. "Dudes, are you sure? My truck's kind of a mess at the moment-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>There's no time!</em> " Mabel yells. "<em>We need to go <span class="u">now</span>! Dipper might be in trouble! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>The lot of them practically launch into the old truck. Steven takes the trunk- he doesn't exactly trust how literal the weight of his anxieties might get if he doesn't like what he finds. He'd like to keep his car crash record at a solid one, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>"Seriously, Mr. Pines, I'm kind of a nervous driver, I don't think-"</p><p> </p><p>"I will pay you <em>overtime, </em>Soos, just FUCKING DRIVE!"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Little Lamby Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gideon gets ambitious.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>It's fine. It's fine. Get in, break up with Gideon for Mabel, get out. It'll be fine.</p><p> </p><p>It'll be easy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God, this place is ritzy. It's like I can't even afford to stand on the carpet.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper Pines! What a surprise." Gideon is almost dwarfed by the menu, and practically drowning in the plush decadence of his seat. "You look good, you look good."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, you uh-" </p><p> </p><p>It's kind of weird. He should be sticking out like a sore thumb in this place, but no one even seems to notice he's there.</p><p> </p><p>"-look, Gideon, we gotta talk." <em>Do it. Do it for <span class="u">her</span>. </em>"Mabel isn't joining you tonight." </p><p> </p><p>Lean on the table. Smile. Look friendly. Be as nonthreatening as possible.</p><p> </p><p>"She, uh, <em>doesn't want to-</em>" <em>see you anymore.</em></p><p> </p><p>Wait. What?</p><p> </p><p>"Sh-" <em>e doesn't want to see you anymore. </em>"What in the-"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my goodness," Gideon wonders, all sweet tones and pleasant sympathies. "Are you alright, Pines?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't- I can't-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I can't talk. <span class="u">I can't breathe.</span></em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Heavens to Betsy, you look unwell!" Gideon presses a hand to his chest and snaps his fingers. "Close up! We got a boy needin' medical attention!"</p><p> </p><p>"You," Dipper wheezes, "You don't have-"</p><p> </p><p>But Gideon presses a firmer hand to his own chest, hands waving away every customer, who all suddenly stand with tame smiles as they politely walk away.</p><p> </p><p>In less then a minute, they're the only two people left in the establishment.</p><p> </p><p>Gideon nods, satisfied, and claps his hands. A waiter appears with a glass of water and soda, before bowing out.</p><p> </p><p>"Do drink a bit of both. The caffeine in sodas can clear up the airways, it'll do you some good."</p><p> </p><p>He goes for the soda, and lo and behold, it actually helps. "Thanks," Dipper finally manages to breathe. "You really saved me right there."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh gosh," Gideon waves it away. "Any dear to Mabel's is dear to mine."</p><p> </p><p>Jeez. Now Dipper just feels like a jerk for what he's about to do. <em>Maybe he shouldn't say it,</em> something whispers in the back of his head.<em> Maybe he could leave it to some other time-</em></p><p> </p><p>No!</p><p> </p><p>No. For Mabel. He has to do it for Mabel.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen, Gideon, I, uh, I'm real sorry to say this," <em>why though? Why am I sorry all of the sudden? I don't even like Gideon. </em>"But Mabel won't be joining you tonight. She, uh, she... doesn't want to see you anymore."</p><p> </p><p>Gideon's still smiling, strangely. Maybe he hasn't quite gotten it yet?</p><p> </p><p>"She's kind of- weirded out by you, <em>no</em> offense."</p><p> </p><p>"So what you're sayin' is..." Gideon's smile <em>seizes</em> for the barest instant. "...you've come between us."</p><p> </p><p>Okay, kind of creepy. Kid's... kid's kinda pale in the light. Like, <em>really </em>pale. <em>Kind of looks albino, now that I see it up</em> close.</p><p> </p><p>"You're not gonna... freak out or anything, right?"</p><p> </p><p>The... vaguely unsettling frown on Gideon's soft face suddenly shifts to an angelic smile. "Of course not!" he giggles. "These things happen. Bygones, y'know."</p><p> </p><p>Good, good. Time To Get Out And Goodbye Forever.</p><p> </p><p>"So, okay, cool!" Dipper's smile is more of a cringe at this point, really. "Then again, sorry, man, but hey-"</p><p> </p><p>"Where you goin', Pines?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm-" Dipper tries not to look at the exit. "-I'm leaving. I said what I came here to say, we're- we're done talking."</p><p> </p><p>"No." A chair suddenly pushes Dipper forward to the table. "I don't think we are."</p><p> </p><p>Even the glass nudges towards him. Creepy.</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper Pines, how long've you been livin' in this town? A week, two? You like it here?" Gideon's face pushes to a frown, a hospitable voice turned low. "<em>Enjoy the scenery? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"What do you want from me, man? I told you, I-"</p><p> </p><p>"Listen carefully, boy." Gideon puts a fist to the table. "This town has secrets you couldn't <em>begin to comprehend</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Is this about Mabel?" Dipper's got a different kind of frown on <em>his </em>face, now. "I <em>told you</em>, she's not into you!"</p><p> </p><p>"LIAR!" Gideon suddenly shouts. "<em>YOU</em> TURNED HER AGAINST ME!" He leans closer, clutching his chest as his voice shakes with child's rage. "SHE WAS MY PEACH DUMPLIN'!"</p><p> </p><p>Gideon pushes his hand forward. Dipper and his chair suddenly fly back into the wall. There's a wry grin on the little boy's face, dark eyes wild with an animal sort of <em>glow</em>. "Readin' minds isn't <em>all</em> I can do," Gideon whispers conspiratorily. </p><p> </p><p>"But you're a- fake," Dipper's voice wavers.</p><p> </p><p>"Tell me Dipper," Gideon smiles sweetly as all the tables rise, "is this fake?"</p><p> </p><p>And despite himself, Dipper rises too. "She's never gonna <em>date you</em>, man!"</p><p> </p><p>"THAT'S A LIE!" The kitchen opens up and <em>oh jesus fuck, that's a knife. That's A Knife.</em> "And I'm gonna make sure you <em>never</em> lie to me again, <em>friend.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>The knife doesn't go for his chest. No, no. It goes for his mouth, slowly forced open so it can cut out his- </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"That's enough."</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The ring of Az's voice cuts through the moment. The tables clatter to the floor, and so does Dipper.</p><p> </p><p>Az isn't smiling. Not anymore. And he's not alone.</p><p> </p><p>Stan practically barges in behind him, knuckle dusters at the ready. Soos comes in, adjusting his cap. And at the center of it all...</p><p> </p><p>"Mabel!" Gideon's hand drops. "My marshmalla'."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry Gideon," Mabel sighs, hand clutched at her arm, "but I can't be your marshmallow. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself."</p><p> </p><p>"I..." Gideon moves to clutch his chest again, and Dipper feels his throat close in on itself again. "...I don't understand."</p><p> </p><p>Az looks to him briefly, his expression watchful but carefully, unsettlingly blank.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey," Mabel concedes as she walks closer, taking Gideon's hands, "but we can still be makeover buddies. Wouldn't you like that?"</p><p> </p><p>"Really?" Gideon smiles hopefully.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel's smile turns to an honest anger as she rips the bolo tie off his neck.</p><p> </p><p>"No, not really!" she yells as she holds the thing aloft. "You were like, attacking my brother!"</p><p> </p><p>"My tie!" Something in Gideon's expression turns desperate. "Give it back!"</p><p> </p><p>"No!"</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't move to grab it from her. Something in his face gets dangerous, now.</p><p> </p><p>He rushes towards Dipper, and the knife laid on the floor, and-</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"Stop."</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Everything is stopped. All of it stopped by the amulet in his uncle's hand. Az is... smiling.</p><p> </p><p>"Nobody's ever told you that, huh? Not once in your life has anyone ever told you no." Az gets closer. "It hurts, doesn't it."</p><p> </p><p>"What-" Gideon scrambles back. "What are you talking about?"</p><p> </p><p>"You lie, and scream, and break, and take, and still nobody tells you <em>no</em>. You think it'd feel good, wouldn't it? But it just hurts instead." There's something sad in his voice now. "It just means nobody ever sees you. Not your neighbors-"</p><p> </p><p>"I-I-I-"</p><p> </p><p>"Your friends-"</p><p> </p><p>"You- I don't know what you're-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Your parents.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Gideon gets quiet.</p><p> </p><p>"Nobody ever told you no, so I will. Nobody ever saw you," The longer he holds the amulet in his hand, the bigger the streak of white in Az's hair gets. "so I will."</p><p> </p><p>He steps forward again, and Gideon shies away. Az stops and sighs.</p><p> </p><p>"Go home, kid. Go home, get some sleep, and come tomorrow you come on down, tell Mabel you're sorry and <em>mean it</em>." He puts a hand on the little boy's shoulder. "Okay?"</p><p> </p><p>One second. Two seconds.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay."</p><p> </p><p>And Gideon awkwardly shuffles out of the restaurant. Az's hold on the amulet loosens, and he almost slumps on the wall, the stubborn white of his hair fading away.</p><p> </p><p>"Woah, dude, you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>" 'm fine, I'm fine," Az wearily bites out. "That was just... tiring."</p><p> </p><p>Stan takes off his knuckledusters, and walks towards Dipper. He raises a hand... and grabs Dipper's shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"You okay, kid?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," Dipper just barely answers.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh thank fuck." Stan almost <em>deflates</em> at the answer with a sharp wheeze. "Please don't pull something like that again, I'd rather not die of a heart attack."</p><p> </p><p>"You... you aren't mad?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ha! Nah. I mean, it was right fucking stupid of ya, but y' didn't realize what you were walking into, and- and ya did it for family." Stan smiles just a bit. "I ain't gonna fault ya for that." His smile gains a teasingly angry angle. "But you still don't get to pick the pizza toppings tonight."</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, <em>what</em>-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Acquired Guy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stanley finally remembers why McGucket is so familiar.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Oh shit."</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Steven blinks back into focus.</p><p> </p><p>"I just remembered where I know McGucket from."</p><p> </p><p>"I figured he was just one of those guys everybody knows."</p><p> </p><p>"No, no," Stanley swirls the coffee in his cup, "I mean I <em>knew</em> him from somewhere, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was until like 5 seconds ago." He takes a swig before near slamming the thing down on the old table. "He knew my brother back in the day! He was Ford's research assistant!"</p><p> </p><p>Steven frowns. "Wouldn't that mean he-"</p><p> </p><p>"-probably helped <em>build the fucking hole puncher! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Hole puncher. That's what they'd taken to calling it, those late nights in the basement. 'Hole puncher' sounds way less scary and insurmountable than 'interdimensional portal' after all.</p><p> </p><p>"We getting him on board, then?"</p><p> </p><p>Stan almost smiles, but stops. "...Nah, I don't think we could. Somethin' got to him in the early days, tuned him absolutely bonkers. He's got a reputation for a reason, y'know."</p><p> </p><p>"Didn't seem too bonkers when we saw him last."</p><p> </p><p>"I mean it, Az. He went clear out of his mind."</p><p> </p><p>"He can't have been like that his whole life. He was sane enough at one point to have gone through human school and become the research assistant of an established scientist."</p><p> </p><p>What?" Stan scoffs. "You're not sayin' you can turn back the clock on him, are ya?" He stops with a mildly concerned look. "<em>Oh god, you are.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not saying I could turn him <em>young again</em>- well, I probably could, but that's not what I'm driving at-"</p><p> </p><p>"-not helping your case here-"</p><p> </p><p>"-I'm just saying, I can heal injuries. If this had an unnatural cause, I might be able to at least improve his condition to high-functioning levels."</p><p> </p><p>"You're gonna fix his brain with your Lovecraftian sky voodoo."</p><p> </p><p>"I can <em>try.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Stan sighs. "<em>Fine.</em> We'll pitch it to 'im. But we're taking <em>my</em> car. I don't wanna scare him with your 90's aesthetic."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Stanley this is a literal dump."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't get on my case about it!" Stanley barks back defensively. "He hangs out here a lot, it's not- it's not like he <em>lives</em> here or anything."</p><p> </p><p>There's a little house put together out of scrap metal and old roof parts. Az looks at Stanley.</p><p> </p><p>"In my defense, I did not know he actually lived here."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, McGucket?" Az knocks at the wall of the house. "You in there?"</p><p> </p><p>McGucket pops out of the hood of a scrapped car. "Well boy howdy, it's the grim reaper!" He calls out cheerfully. "Ah' was wonderin' when you was a comin' t' take my soul!" A pause. "WELL YA CAN'T HAVE IT!"</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, c'mon man-"</p><p> </p><p>McGucket scrambles up the wall of his ramshackle house. "THE ONLY UNHOLY DEMON TAKIN' ME DOWN TA THE FIERY MOUTH O' HELL IS <span class="u">ME!</span>"</p><p> </p><p>Stanley looks up at the other man's fierce jig on the roof. "I'm not climbing that."</p><p> </p><p>Az sighs. "Yeah, yeah, I got him."</p><p> </p><p>With the barest movement of his legs, Az's body sails up to the roof. Okay. That's a thing he can do apparently. Stanley will just have to keep it in mind, he supposes to himself.</p><p> </p><p>Az picks up the scrawny man like a ragdoll and promptly walks off the roof.</p><p> </p><p>"Am I bein' abducted?"</p><p> </p><p>"Eh, depends." Stan takes out his brother's journal, turning it to the coded portal pages. "This ring any bells to you?"</p><p> </p><p>He's not talking to McGucket, not really. He's listening to the journal.</p><p> </p><p>Damn thing's got a living whisper to it. Spooky little fucker keeps him up at night no matter where he puts it, but it's got a method to its obsessive mind. And right now he wants to know if McGucket's got something the book likes to see.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently it does. There's a friendly note to its indecipherable voice.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I-" McGucket looks down on the pages from his odd perch, draped on Az's back like the world's weirdest mink stole. "-I think it might. But I darn well can't go recallin' anythin'. If this here journalin's any older than near 30 years past, it's probabilly all lost, I reckon. Can't remember off much more back than that."</p><p> </p><p>Az hums vaguely, releasing McGucket from his perch. "Well, let's go try and jog something, shall we?"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Step one of "Acquire Guy", as Az so eloquently put it- Give Guy A Shave And A Haircut.</p><p> </p><p>Which Stanley can agree with, honestly. There is bandages on the guy's beard, for cryin' out loud. They don't cut down his beard all the way- he actually seems to like having at least a little bit of it leftover- but at least he looks like he looks more Vaguely Respectable Grandpa than Unhinged Trash Wizard. While they're at it, they cut the bandages off of his hands and the like. Can't be good to keep those there.</p><p> </p><p>Step two of "Acquire Guy"- Give Guy An Actual Fucking Shower.</p><p> </p><p>Fair. Though McGucket did have to be a little reminded how to <em>use</em> a shower.</p><p> </p><p>Step three- Give Guy Some Clothes.</p><p> </p><p>They already have some in the house- McGucket must have <em>lived</em> with Ford at some point, before it all went down. It fits a little loosely on him, but at least it looks like a preference rather than an inability to get proper clothes.</p><p> </p><p>There's even a pair of glasses, which takes care of step four. Weird, fancy framed ones with funny green lenses, but they must have been his, the way he immediately goes to them. He blinks and straightens suddenly at the sight of himself in the mirror. Huh. Guy's actually kind of tall.</p><p> </p><p>It's like watching a person <em>build</em> themselves in real time. Maybe it is.</p><p> </p><p>Step five, the important one. Everything else, really, is just details.</p><p> </p><p>Step five is the quick kiss Az lays on McGucket's forehead.</p><p> </p><p>Step five is the way the man's eyes suddenly widen with a sudden and unsettling level of clarity.</p><p> </p><p>The way he walks down the stairs and knows exactly which steps to avoid creaking without being told. Knowing which doorframes he needs to duck a little for under his height. Long, familiar strides on long legs, rickety hands laid on the stones in the walls and lingering on the ones Stanley knows are secret cabinets.</p><p> </p><p>A Rubik's cube, collecting dust. McGucket takes the old thing into his hands, and as he clicks it back into place, something settles in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"You-" He looks back to Stanley, as though seeing him for the first time. "Stanford? Stanford Pines?"</p><p> </p><p>Stanley smiles, a weary old mask, and raises his <em>five</em> fingered hands. "Ah, close, but no cigar." He nervously tugs at his tie. "We're workin' on it."</p><p> </p><p>"On what?"</p><p> </p><p>"Savin' Stanford Pines. You want in?"</p><p> </p><p>Fiddleford Hadron McGucket looks down at the Rubik's cube in his hands, at the ghost of a house that haunted him for thirty years, and a strange man with a face like a distant memory. A handshake with what he knows isn't quite enough fingers.</p><p> </p><p>He looks down at a journal's golden hand, laying his hand there. He hears a whisper, a voice that sounds like <em>rickety-college-dorm-old-phone-call-best-man-at-your-wedding-rubiks-cube-that-can't-damn-well-be-left-alone.</em></p><p> </p><p>It sounds like somebody that needs help.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It sounds like an old friend.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know what?" he whispers. "I damn well might."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>it's implied that the memory gun works by damaging the brain's connection short/long term memory, but it's also shown that it does no damage to the memories themselves. so theoretically, one could simply heal the pathways.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. You Can't Sit With Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fiddleford remembers coffee.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Gideon looks nervously back to the girl next to him. "Mabel, why is McGucket sittin' with us?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Stan hired him to help build tech stuff for the shack! And put his life back together, I guess."</p><p> </p><p>"That's nice, I suppose."</p><p> </p><p>Gideon, eating brunch with the Pines. Strange but true. Because after that Unfortunate Incident at <em>The Club</em> restaurant, Gideon had actually come down the next day and apologized.</p><p> </p><p>He'd apologized in strange, halting words, but it was an <em>apology</em>, a real one, maybe the first one he'd ever really made in his life. A round little albino boy charming enough to sway adults but not enough to really keep any friends. So he'd taken it too far with the first one he'd got.</p><p> </p><p>He'd been sorry and he <em>meant it</em>, so Dipper and Mabel shared one look, a collective sigh, and let him try again. Hence brunch.</p><p> </p><p>McGucket- Fiddleford Hadron McGucket- he was a strange one too. Apparently he'd been living in the junkyard, and Stan and Az had decided he'd been living like that for a good 30 years too many. So he lives with them now, kind of. He makes little animatronics for the Shack, and apparently he's working on some carnival thing Stan wants to set up later in the summer.</p><p> </p><p>And currently- currently, the old man was rediscovering coffee with a little too much enthusiasm, in a way that had Az frowning with a bit of honest concern.</p><p> </p><p>"Lazy Susan, there's my little ray of sunshine," Stan brightens as the owner of the diner walks by. "Where were <em>you</em> yesterday?"</p><p> </p><p>"I got hit by a bus!" She cheerfully replies.</p><p> </p><p>Stan laughs and hits the table with a bit too much vigor. "Hilarious!"</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you!" Her own laughter is slow, halting, and lazy.</p><p> </p><p>"You do split plates, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey now," Az smoothly cuts in, "no need to do that. I'll get the bill."</p><p> </p><p>"With the fancy flour people use these days?" Stan asks. "What are ya, made of money?"</p><p> </p><p>"Enough money to buy some breakfast, that's for sure. Get what you want, kids. You too, Fiddleford."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm just wantin' some more caffinators in my brain engine!" Fiddleford answers.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper looks to the machine near the entrance.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't worry, guys," he smiles all smug as he leans back. "Pancakes are on me. I'm gonna win some by beating that manliness tester."</p><p> </p><p>"Manliness tester?" Stan deadpans.</p><p> </p><p>"Beating?" Mabel snickers.</p><p> </p><p>They laugh.</p><p> </p><p>"Am I- should I laugh?" Gideon asks. "Am I allowed t' do that?"</p><p> </p><p>"Please don't," Dipper whines.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, no offense, Dipper. But you're not exactly," Mabel mumbles through puffed cheeks, "<em>Manly Mannington.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey! I am <em>too</em> Manly- Manny- or, whatever it is you said."</p><p> </p><p>"Man...ly?" Az asks. "I don't get it."</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, kid," Stan leans over the table. "Let's not forget last Tuesday's <em>incident.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"You were listening to girly Icelandic pop music," Mabel recounts incredulously.</p><p> </p><p>"Girl... girly." Az frowns. "I feel like I'm missing something."</p><p> </p><p>"Fine! Family of little faith. Get ready to eat your words." Dipper starts to scoot off the bench. "<em>And</em> a plate of delicious pancakes."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, Dipper." He makes his way to the machine. "Time to manhandle this... man handle."</p><p> </p><p>The machine's labels follow in ascending order as <em>WIMP, MIDDLE AGED WOMAN, BARELY PASSABLE, MAN, </em>and the most coveted of titles- <em>MANLY MAN.</em></p><p> </p><p>The light goes up, and up, and... settles on <em>WIMP</em>. Dumb machine. Must be broken. Look at the rickety thing. Must be so old it ran out of, like, <em>steam power</em> or <em>oh, jeez, here comes Manly Dan.</em></p><p> </p><p><em>He </em>barely even gives a forceful pinkie nudge before the thing practically <em>breaks</em> under the sheer force of his manpower.</p><p> </p><p>"HA!" Dan shouts triumphant.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh dear! The machine!" Susan cries.</p><p> </p><p>"Oops." Dan actually looks contrite. "Sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"I got it." Az sidles over to the machine, pressing a quick kiss to his hand before giving the handle a soft, but strong yank. The machine <em>clicks</em> back into place, lights flashing happily. "There we are."</p><p> </p><p>"THANK YOU, SOFT MYSTERY MARSHMALLOW MAN!"</p><p> </p><p>"You're- you're welcome?" Az haltingly replies past the sudden bear hug.</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Susan calls out, "seein' as you both kind of beat the machine, you both get a free stack o' pancakes!"</p><p> </p><p>"YEAH!" Dan shouts. "FREE PANCAKES FOR EVERYONE!"</p><p> </p><p>"Mason, we got those free pancakes you wanted!" Az looks around for his nephew. "Mason?"</p><p> </p><p>But he's nowhere in sight.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper is already on the other side of the door, outside, walking away with his hat over his face, a red embarrassment on his cheeks, and a chip on his shoulder as strong as a man.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Kneecapper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steven VS Manliness.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Oh, of all the people to run into from his I Am Not A Real Man walk of shame.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, Mason."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey... Uncle Az." Don't get all red. Don't. <em>Maintain dignity.</em></p><p> </p><p><br/>"You're lookin' kinda red in the face there. You alright?" <em>Fuck.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Eh, y'know, I'm just-" A cough. "-a bit hot out."</p><p> </p><p>"So <em>that's</em> what happened to all your clothes." Az tilts his head with a squint. "I don't really get the pictures though. Aren't you too young to get tattoos?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, these? These aren't, uh," Dipper crosses his arms in front of himself. "These aren't tattoos, they're just, like- body stickers, kind of. They wash off."</p><p> </p><p>"Neat. Where'd you get them?"</p><p> </p><p>"I-"</p><p> </p><p>Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. He's <em>not</em> going to suffer through another person making fun of his manliness.</p><p> </p><p>"-It's kind of stupid, you wouldn't want to hear about it."</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Az kind of scratches at his beanie, "I'm not trying to pry, but you seem kind of upset about it? I'm not gonna make fun of you or anything."</p><p> </p><p>"Even if it's stupid?"</p><p> </p><p>"Even if it's stupid."</p><p> </p><p>And stupid enough- Dipper believes him. Az never really teased him the way Stan and Mabel did, and he was... <em>painfully, awkwardly honest.</em> If he says he won't make fun, he won't.</p><p> </p><p>"I-" he sits down on some fallen timber. Az follows suit. "I was hanging out with these- these guys, tryin' to be like- like a <em>real man</em>, y'know? I did all the stuff they did, and it was good! It was stupid, but it felt good." He looks down at the grass. "And then they... they asked me to hurt someone, this other guy. They said I wouldn't be a real man if I didn't."</p><p> </p><p>"And did you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Did I what?"</p><p> </p><p>"Hurt someone."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper looks back, shocked. But there's no judgement on Az's face, no disappointment- only an honest question asking for an answer.</p><p> </p><p>"No. I didn't. I <em>couldn't</em>. I... I walked away." He puts a hand to his chin. "I guess I'll never be a real man, or whatever the guy said."</p><p> </p><p>"What does that mean?" Az asks. "<em>Real man.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p>"Like, what is," Az brings up his hand in a flippant gesture, "this whole <em>manly</em> thing y'all have been talking about?"</p><p> </p><p>Jeez. Maybe Soos' immigrant theory was right. (Doesn't rule out werewolf, though.)</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know- manly. Like a man. Gotta be tough, strong, gutsy, that sort of stuff. Can't go around doing girly things."</p><p> </p><p>Az blinks all slow like a cat. "I don't get it. If you're a man, aren't you already 'manly'? Everything you do is already manly."</p><p> </p><p>"Huh. I guess that's one way to look at it."</p><p> </p><p>"What got you so upset, anyway? Why do you need to be, uh, 'manly', as it were?"</p><p> </p><p>"I-" The red creeps up his face again, Dipper knows it. "<em>I just wanted to be a real man, that's all.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Why <em>wouldn't</em> you be a real man?"</p><p> </p><p>"Because I'm-" His voice trails off. "-I'm <em>not</em> a real man. Not really. I'm... kinda trans."</p><p> </p><p>"Trans?"</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know... <em>transgender.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Trans..." Az rolls the word in his mouth. "Transform-gender? Transcend-gender?" He frowns, just a bit. "I don't get it."</p><p> </p><p>"I, uh. I used to be a girl, but it feels wrong to be a girl, so I act like a guy. I take, like, meds and stuff so my body matches up to be more like a guy's."</p><p> </p><p>"Huh." Az laughs a little to himself. "Man, I don't really get all this boy/girl stuff. People are just people, y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper tries not to be disappointed. Figures he might not get it.</p><p> </p><p>"But," his uncle haltingly continues, "it's important to you, I guess? Must be, if you're fit to change your whole body for it. So <em>whatever,</em> y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Az. It, uh- it means a lot to me, when people can just- accept it, I guess."</p><p> </p><p>"Mason." There's a dangerously casual tilt to Az's smile all of the sudden. "Did those guys make you feel like you had to <em>deserve</em> to be what you already are?"</p><p> </p><p>"...A bit, yeah."</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"I could fight them for you."</p><p> </p><p>"Please don't."</p><p> </p><p>"It would be very easy."</p><p> </p><p>"Az, please, they're bigger than Manly Dan, they would kill you."</p><p> </p><p>"Only if I die."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Yeah, that's what killing you MEANS-</em>"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For completely unrelated reasons, the Manataurs are later thoroughly humbled by a strange pink man in a dress who systematically suplexed every single one who tried to fight him, including Leader-aur.</p><p>He is smiling the entire time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Google- search history</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>History</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Clear History</p><p>
  <span class="u">Today</span>
</p><p> </p><p>wooden stick</p><p>woodstick</p><p>woodstick song</p><p>woodstick festival</p><p>woodstick festival when</p><p>woodstick festival 2012</p><p>woodstick shepherd and clover</p><p>woodstick bands</p><p>woodstick new york charity concert</p><p>sadie killer and the suspects reunion concert</p><p>sadie killer charity concert</p><p>woodstick sadie killer</p><p>woodstick venues</p><p>woodstick admission prices</p><p>woodstick admission limit</p><p>woodstick age restrictions</p><p>restrictions for babies</p><p>can I bring a baby to a music festival</p><p>can I bring babies to public places</p><p>can babies travel</p><p>is it safe for babies to travel</p><p>is it still a date if your kid is there</p><p>woodstick animal restrictions</p><p>woodstick mr universe</p><p>baby travel supplies</p><p>what do babies need when travelling</p><p>what do babies need</p><p>baby</p><p>baby store</p><p>baby store maryland</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(haha guess who it is)</p><p>-</p><p>you may have noticed how this fic hasn't updated as much as <em>Fishing Pictures</em> has, recently. it's not that we haven't been working on it- I have a few drafted chapters in the queue. but Falrisesi is going through End Of The Semester Workload, so this fic is on a sort of semi-pause while they get done what they need to. And also, i'm insane, and not everyone can keep up with my manic creation juice. I can respect that. so I simply ask our readers to also respect that! We'll Get There When We Get There</p><p>-Aenor</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Google- search history</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>History</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Clear History</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">Today</span>
</p><p> </p><p>child actors</p><p>child performers</p><p>being a child actor</p><p>child actor mental problems</p><p>am i spoiled</p><p>what is a temper tantrum</p><p>child anger issues</p><p>do i have mental problems</p><p>work and mental health</p><p>should i quit my job</p><p>therapy</p><p>how do i know if i need therapy</p><p>how do i tell my parents i need therapy</p><p>therapist</p><p>child therapist</p><p>how to be friends with your ex</p><p>do i have superpowers</p><p>what is a skateboard</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>another "break" chapter! guess who it is this time :)</p><p>i might do more "break" chapters to tide Falrisesi's break, both to keep a steady flow of content and to prevent any pressure on my co-author's part to rush returning before strictly ready. They aren't "fillers" per se, but these would be chapters that simply don't correspond to any particular gravity falls episode, unlike most of the chapters you've read so far.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Stay Cool Forever, Mason. Arrivederci.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Uncle Az is just having a moment, is all.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Mason?" Az's odd voice echoes through the shack. "Mason?"</p><p> </p><p>There's a sort of... almost panicky edge to his words. Weird.</p><p> </p><p>"Mason? Where are you? M-"</p><p> </p><p>He stops, finally, when he sees Dipper, looking oddly frazzled.</p><p> </p><p>"Uncle Az?"</p><p> </p><p>Az's only real response is a vague, hitched sound, nearly swaying on his feet. Almost pitched to fall, he suddenly leans forward and hugs Dipper.</p><p> </p><p>"Az, are you-" he awkwardly pats the man's back a few times. "-you okay there?"</p><p> </p><p>"There- there was- there was I-I-I-I-" Az leans away and suddenly cuts the loop of his words with an odd click, harshly tilting his head to the side. "I saw- I saw <em>three</em> of you, you, you in the hall and then the fire safe-safety s-s-s-" he vaguely gestures at the ceiling, "-and you-" his voice breaks for a moment, "-you-you-you-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Melted.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The paper clones, Az must have...</p><p> </p><p>"That didn't, I didn't-" His uncle suddenly lets out a strangled laugh. "I'm not making sense, right? That didn't just happen, I'm just-" there's a concerningly <em>hysterical</em> note in Az's voice, now. "-I'm just being <em>crazy</em>, right?"</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, jeez.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Dipper hadn't thought about what that must have <em>looked like</em>, if anyone ever saw.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So I either tell my uncle he's crazy, which he absolutely doesn't need to hear right now...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...or I tell him that actually happened. Which he probably <span class="u">also</span> doesn't need to hear.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oy vey.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I'm, uh-" He awkwardly pats his uncle's arms. "-I'm okay. I didn't get hurt or anything, so you, uh- you don't got to worry about it, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>And Az- Az who once moved Soos' truck with his hands, who stood Gideon down with words alone, who could probably fight Manly Dan and <em>win</em>- he just nods like a scared little kid, and with his small shaking voice says "<em>Okay.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Mm. Awkward, huggy silence.</p><p> </p><p>"Have you ever tried a Pitt Cola? They put these flavor capsules in them that you shake around, that look like peach pits."</p><p> </p><p>Az lets out a tired laugh. "That's a thing?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I almost thought they were <em>actual</em> peach pits at first. Stupid, I know-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><em>double dipper</em> had a very self-contained plot (mostly just dipper running around by himself), so I left it undisturbed.</p><p>Meanwhile, I've released my free-to-read original series, Oddwick Isles, which can be found here: https://tapas.io/series/Oddwick-Isles/info<br/>-Aenor</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. You Can't Just Quote Quantum Physics At Me, That's Illegal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steven and the longest day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Steven contemplates a Mystery Dog<strong>TM</strong>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mason's been playing that ball game an awful lot.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Seems so.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Reminds him of Funland. Throw a baseball at some bottles and win a prize, or something like that. He'd won two himself- one for Vairam as a very confusing first toy, and one for Lars- y'know, a dumb little thing to put on the dashboard of his ship and make him laugh at inappropriate hours.</p><p> </p><p>They were pretty cute, in some nonsensical way.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>A duck, or a panda? It should make up its mind.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Panduck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles at the thought.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He really <strong>has</strong> been playing that game a lot.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Should we take pity on him?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Pity for his poor wallet, perhaps.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Perhaps he plays more for the game than the prize.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It's not too inexcusable. Some folk are bound to habit, even in their downtime, and today of all days has passed rather slowly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>What's that phrase- flying time?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Time flies?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Yes, that. Isn't it supposed to be 'time flies' when you're having fun?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Well I don't know about you, but I lost all sense of time at around the noon mark.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He leans against the bench.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I know, it feels like we've been here for three days-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The sky breaks. Clouds swirl at unnatural speed, like fish caught in a river's current. The sun moves exactly the wrong direction across the sky and-</p><p> </p><p>"IT'S TWELVE O' CLOCK! THE DUNK TANK IS NOW OPEN!"</p><p> </p><p>Steven feels the tail end of the Hourglass's activation within his gem, anchoring him in place.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hold on-</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Wait a-</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, Mason!"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, Uncle Az." Weird- Az hasn't up and talked to him in any of the other tries.</p><p> </p><p>"You look a bit battered. Everything alright?"</p><p> </p><p>"Eh, I'm just kinda stuck."</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Az smiles vaguely, "maybe I can help you get <em>unstuck.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm just-" <em>stuck in a self imposed time loop. </em>"I'm trying to win the bottles game, but I can't get the trick to it. I've been trying all these different things, but I can't get the, uh, result I want?" Dipper sighs, taking a bite from the Mystery Dog Az quietly offers him. "There's just all these wacky variables in the way."</p><p> </p><p>"What if instead of mixing up your pre-existing variables, you added one?" Az claps his hands together. "I'd be there with you."</p><p> </p><p>"What, just watching?" Az nods. Dipper frowns. "You really think things would change if you just watched?"</p><p> </p><p>Az's smile squints with some kind of private joke. "You'd be surprised how much things change just by having someone watch things happen."</p><p> </p><p>A pause.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Did you just quote fucking quantum mechanics at me?</em>" Dipper whispers.</p><p> </p><p>"Perhaps," Az cryptically answers.</p><p> </p><p>"I can't believe I'm even considering this," Dipper sighs.</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Az offers, "if it doesn't work out, you can always try again."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." Dipper tries not to think of the measuring tape in his pocket. "I guess you're right."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Woah!" Wendy looks at the odd oversized toys with the same fascination she doesn't know she's shown dozens of times before. "I don't know what that is, but I want it."</p><p> </p><p>"Ask and you shall receive." As Dipper hands off his ticket, Az sidles over and leans on the booth counter.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, hey Az," Wendy waves. "You lookin' for a turn?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, no," the guy laughs and gently cuffs Dipper's hat. "I already had mine. I'm just here for luck."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper lets out an uneasy breath. "One panda-duck, comin' up." He waves the ball in his hands. "And-a-one, and-a-two, and-a-"</p><p> </p><p>The ball, as always hits its mark, and goes sailing for Wendy's face. Before Dipper can even feel the disappointment of failing <em>again-</em></p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Woah, there!" Steven's hand flies out, catching the baseball a good few centimeters from Wendy's eye. "Unlucky ball, that one."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks for the save, man," Wendy thanks as she's ceremoniously given her Stuffed Creature Of Indeterminate Species.</p><p> </p><p>Steven just laughs, broad hands cuffing at his own beanie. "Just tryin' to spare your eyes the icebag, is all."</p><p> </p><p>Wendy snorts.</p><p> </p><p>(Dipper looks off to the side. He sees Robbie almost approach, look at the laughing pair, and stalk away with a red face.)</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, uh," Wendy hugs her newly won prize a little tighter, "you wanna join me and Dipper, go check out the rides? Get funnel cake later or something?"</p><p> </p><p><em>Sounds kind of fun.</em> "Well, I-"</p><p> </p><p>There's a <em>look</em> on Mason's face. Almost like a disappointment.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh. It's for her. All of it was for her.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Steven waves his own words away. "I ain't gonna bother you kids. Go have fun!" He tosses the ball to himself. "Maybe I'll win myself another one of these purple panducks while I'm at it."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright." The tall girl shrugs good naturedly. "See you later, man."</p><p> </p><p>Mason lingers for a bit. "Hey, uh-" he coughs into his hand, pulling his hat down. "-thanks."</p><p> </p><p>"Did you get the result you wanted?" Steven's song smiles.</p><p> </p><p>"...Yeah." Mason looks back at Wendy, already picking out the next attraction. "Yeah, I did."</p><p> </p><p>"You gonna try again, see if you get something better next time?"</p><p> </p><p>Mason stuffs his hands in his pockets. "No. I'm pretty happy with how things turned out."</p><p> </p><p>"Good, good. Now don't keep your friend waiting."</p><p> </p><p>Mason finally runs off to catch up to the girl. Steven tosses the unlucky ball between his hands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Think Connor would like a panduck?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>No.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Steven hands the game runner a ticket, and pitches his arm to throw.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>But I want to see the look on his face when he gets one anyway.</strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the observer effect, in physics, is the idea that the observation of phenomena changes it, since most means of observation by definition require some interference with the environment. For example, in order to check tire pressure, at least some air is inevitably released from the tire- which, in turn, changes the tire pressure.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. To Fight Fighters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Robbie is forced to be polite. Dipper is forced to think about things.</p><p>Az has a guitar.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Robbie?" Dipper squints suspiciously. "What are <em>you</em> doing here?"</p><p> </p><p>Robbie scoffs. "Oh, y'know. stuff." He stuffs his fingerless gloved hands into his pockets. "You seen Wendy around?"</p><p> </p><p><em>Ugh, not this again.</em> "She's not here. She went camping with her family." Dipper fiddles with a jar of eyes. "Buzz off." <em>Fuck off.</em></p><p> </p><p>"You can't tell me what to do."</p><p> </p><p>"Uh... I totally can." Dipper taps the <em>NO LOITERING</em> sign with maybe too much aggression. Maybe. You can't prove anything. "Buy something or fuck off, man."</p><p> </p><p>Robbie stalks over and leans just too close over the cashier's desk. "Alright, brat, what's your problem? You're always acting like Wendy's guard dog or something, what the fuck are you playing at?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know," Dipper bites as he leaves through the newspaper, "<em>maybe</em> because she can do better than hang out with someone like <em>you</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Now you listen here you little-"</p><p> </p><p>"Robbie," Az suddenly cuts as he enters, smiling, "are you fighting my twelve-year-old nephew?"</p><p> </p><p>The lanky teen pulls up his hoodie. "No..."</p><p> </p><p>"Good!" Az claps his hands together. "We'll be off, then."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper sits up at the cash register. "Where are you guys going?"</p><p> </p><p>"Out into town for some guitar practice, is all. Y'know Robbie's got a band? Pretty cool, right?"</p><p> </p><p>Robbie fiddles with the strings of his hood. "<em>It's not <span class="u">that</span> cool</em>," he mutters shyly.</p><p> </p><p>"It <em>totally </em>is." Az settles the guitar strapped to his back. "You guys 've got good sound, you just need more range, is all."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper frowns to himself. "Uncle Az, can I like, talk to you for a second?"</p><p> </p><p>Az blinks slowly. "Alright." He waves back at Robbie. "I'll catch up, you go on without me." As Robbie (finally) leaves, he turns back to Dipper. "What's up, Mason?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Why are you hanging out with Robbie? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, we do guitar stuff out in the town." Az laughs a little. "Sometimes people toss some money to us? Pretty wild."</p><p> </p><p>"Is <em>that</em> why you've been randomly buying us ice cream and stuff?" Wait. He's getting off topic. "And- and I don't mean <em>what </em>you're doing? I mean, like- <em>why?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Why not?"</p><p> </p><p>"He's <em>terrible!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Is he?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper pauses. "What?"</p><p> </p><p>Az ruffles at his hat. "He's honestly not that bad? Just a little awkward. And sad. He's a pretty interesting guy, once you get to know him." Az frowns, almost. "Has he been fighting you or something?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well-" Not without Dipper starting it, now that he thinks about it. "-not really."</p><p> </p><p>His uncle lets out a long, vague hum. "Then it sounds like less anything he's actually done and more of your own personal bias." Az blinks. "Not that I'd know, really. I might be reading this all wrong." He claps at his guitar strap. "Anyways, I'd better get going! Bye!"</p><p> </p><p>One last parting tap on Dipper's cap later, Az leaves through the gift shop door.</p><p> </p><p>There's a long silence.</p><p> </p><p>With some vague, sinking realization, Dipper sighs into an empty room.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mason, you have got to work on yourself.</em>"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dipper: elder, what is your wisdom<br/>steven: robbie isn't actually a bad person and your dislike of him is tied to jealousy and selfish motivations<br/>dipper: (shocked pikachu)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Hole Punchers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Punching holes for the apocalypse, doodly doo~</p><p>We're all gonna die, doodly doo~</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Accessibility warning for vision or reading impaired: this chapter contains minor passages with exotic formatting. These are deliberate stylistic choices and are not intended to be visually/verbally coherent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>The Gem's head reappears from out of the tunnel. "It's stable."</p><p> </p><p>"Well I'll be damned." Fiddleford adjusts his glasses. "Thought'd the site'd finally gone an' buried itself by now."</p><p> </p><p>"The denser rock enclosing it must have kept it secure," Stanley supposes. "It's too buried to start falling apart now."</p><p> </p><p>Fiddleford cocks his magnet gun experimentally. Like an old friend, the sides light up blue, a spark lighting up its barrel. "Eh, pardon my askin'," he glances back to the Gem, "but where's your magnet at?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I won't need it," the Gem smiles.</p><p> </p><p>Before Fiddleford can parse out what he even meant by that, the man simply steps down the down the tunnel the way one might go down a step down the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>A dark, abyssal, several hundred foot distant stair step.</p><p> </p><p>"He's fine," Stanley says. "He's just like that sometimes." He cocks his own magnet gun in turn, watching the start-up with wary eyes. "Let's get this bread."</p><p> </p><p>Despite being the sturdier of the two, it's Stanley who flounders on the way down. For Fiddleford- wiry, wispy, Fiddleford? It's just like riding a bike.</p><p> </p><p>"You're almost making me wish I took the gun way down," Az smiles goodnaturedly. "Looks like fun."</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you too, Az," Stanley wheezes from his disgraceful landing on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>"How long has this thing even been here?" Az asks, claws just barely scraping at the gathered dust.</p><p> </p><p>"We done estimatin'd it 'round 'bout a million years," Fiddleford recalls.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Aliens! Can you believe it? Do you know how many archeological theories we're proving just by <span class="u">standing</span> here?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Broad, sturdy, spidery hands stuttering over ancient mural walls. Eyes, wide and dark like the ocean and just as hungry, devouring everything in sight. Flyaway brown hair, tousled by their wild descent.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Feels a bit awkward to be standing in ol' history,"  Fiddleford admits, kicking along a stray scrap of debris that hollowly clicks in a suspiciously bone-like manner.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"We're not just <span class="u">standing</span> in history!"  The shuffle of a dusty, well worn coat. A square jaw and the boyish curl of a smile that only existed for him. "Fiddleford, we're <span class="u">making history</span>."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Stanley laughs. "Ya hear that, Mr. Diamond man? Somebody else got here first!"</p><p> </p><p>Az, for his part, simply smiles past the teasing like he always did, tilting his head up at the distant ceiling. "This whole valley must have formed around around the crash, then."</p><p> </p><p>"Ford'd reckoned so, too." Fiddleford scratches at his beard for a bandage that doesn't rest there anymore. "This place, uh... it actually inspired the whole project, I think."</p><p> </p><p><em>Now</em> Stanley's listening. "Really? This old alien mummy prison is what got the ball rollin'?"</p><p> </p><p>"I... I think <em>so.</em>" Fiddleford squints his eyes at the distant memory. "He'd go on for hours-"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that sounds like 'im-"</p><p> </p><p>"-about how close he'd gotten to some kind of <em>grand unified theory of weirdness</em>." He rifles through an old storage unit, disappointingly already empty. "A big piece of his thinkin' was that this here crashin' site created a sort of... a weakness? Kind of a stretchin' spot in them interdimensional barriers he reckoned was runnin' through the Earth."</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, it's perpendicular dimensions," Az finally responds.</p><p> </p><p>"Perp what now?" Stanley parrots.</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know," Az's stray hand moves in a flippant sort of gesture, "like parallel dimensions but the opposite. Instead of running alongside the other dimensions, he's positing that the Earth itself is a perpendicular dimension running through several parallel ones. An interesting theory, if <em>t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-if it's tr</em>
</p><p>BILL! YOU LIED TO ME! WHERE DOES THAT PORTAL REALLY LEAD!</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>do n't p l a y  D u m b, <strike>IQ</strike></strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strong> <strike>when Gravity Falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye I I I i I I I I I</strike> </strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong> <strike>I</strike> </strong> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>THE DIAMOND STAR WILL BLIND THE EYE. THE UNIVERSE SHALL F<em>iddleford? Fi </em></p><p>
  <em>dds? Come on buddy, say something! </em>
</p><p><em> <strike>Interdimensional travel sickness </strike> </em> <em> <strike> YOU'RE THE ONE WITH THE SICKNESS</strike> </em></p><p> </p><p>"-ddleford!" Stanley claps him on the shoulder. His tone is gruff but his eyes are not. "You alright, you kind of... spaced out a bit."</p><p> </p><p>"I, uh-" One of Fiddleford's eyes twitches closed for a moment. "-think I just had a bit of a headache, is all. Done did give me a bit of a time-jumpy daymare though, I reckon."</p><p> </p><p>"Huh." Az narrows his eyes for a moment, but leaves it at that.</p><p> </p><p>"What were we looking for again?" Stanley asks. "Alien duct tape or some shit?"</p><p> </p><p>"Adhesive," Az corrects.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, duct tape, that's what I said," Stanley retorts.</p><p> </p><p>"More of a super glue that'll seal up all the orifices in yer face if y' touch it with yer hands for too long!" Fiddleford cheerfully clarifies.</p><p> </p><p>"How have the both of you not died of some terrible accident already?" Az wonders, horrified.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm too stubborn to die," Stanley snarks.</p><p> </p><p>"God lives in fear of my many and terrible crimes!" Fiddleford yells happily. "All of which I can recite from memory!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>That was a rhetorical question and you do not need to recite your crimes to me.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"IT ALL STARTED WHEN MY WIFE LEFT ME-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Stepping Out Of The Shack For A Quick Phone Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Uncle Az on the telephone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Yeah, that's a hard no from me.</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>Please, you and I both know the defendant is in no state for <em>your particular brand of interrogation.</em></p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>On whose authority?</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>Your organization has no rights to custody of the defendant. No one does.</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>What? So you can sneak around for yourselves? Give some other group a chance to take the information from you? I'd rather not. Every living mind that knows his location is another security risk waiting to happen, I'm not going to trust it to your servers.</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>Now, now, no need to act like you're upset. You'll only insult yourself, so-</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>The fact that I allow your organization any information at all about these proceedings is a <em>courtesy</em>, not a right. <strong>If you want to waste your time, Director, I can gladly cooperate.</strong></p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>Then I'm glad we get eachother. Good talk, Nick.</p>
  <p> </p>
</blockquote><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dipper: (frantically scratching out theories)<br/>mabel:<br/>mabel: so is he like a lawyer, or-</p><p>-</p><p>(reminder that <em>fishing pictures</em> and <em>hole puncher</em> are occuring simultaneously)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. My Light!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When the forest tells you not to go somewhere, don't pull a Dipper.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Gideon's little kid feet stumble over the uneven ground of the forest. "Why are we walking around in the woods?"</p><p> </p><p>"Why are <em>you</em> dressed like the murdered ghost of a disparaged Victorian child?" Dipper asks back.</p><p> </p><p>Gideon looks down at his clothes. Sure, his suit jacket's gone, but he still looks vaguely dressed for church. Or to be the adorable ringbearer at somebody's wedding.</p><p> </p><p>"...My skin is delicate," he mutters. "And that still doesn't answer my question."</p><p> </p><p>"I, uh..." <em>read about a part of the forest that has size changing properties and I want to be taller than Mabel.</em> "I'm just looking for a... <em>thing.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"What thing?" calls a random voice.</p><p> </p><p>The two boys scream for a moment. Rest assured, Dipper had a very manly scream. He totally did. You can't prove otherwise. What are you, a cop? (Gideon's is still girlier.)</p><p> </p><p>"Wait." This isn't a flesh eating Hidebehind or anything. It's... "Norman," Dipper absolutely does <em>not</em> squeak, "hey. Buddy."</p><p> </p><p>'Norman' was a boy that Mabel had... <em>kind of</em> dated a while back before he was impersonated by a bunch of gnomes and it turned out Norman really just wanted a friend more than a girlfriend.</p><p> </p><p>He was also a forest spirit. A small, spindly creature, pale and greenish like a sapling. With really large red eyes. Like candied apples but horrifying.</p><p> </p><p>"You know this guy?" Gideon stage-whispers.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah, he's-" <em>Wait, fuck, how do I explain this is one of Mabel's exes. </em>"-uh... Mabel's friend. We're chill." <em>Fucking nailed it.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Where are you guys going?" Norman asks in his rough, barkish voice.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh. You know." Dipper kicks a stray rock. "Bein' kids. Fucking around in the woods. The usual."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Norman furrows his brows with all the seriousness a child can muster, pointing somewhere to his far left. "Just don't go into that part of the woods. There's these weird rocks that can screw with the size of things. It's unsafe. For humans." He scratches at an errant branch growing along his neck. "I think."</p><p> </p><p>"Cool, cool." Dipper tries to nod as convincingly as he can. "We will definitely do that, thanks for the warning. Bye!"</p><p> </p><p>With a hesitant wave, Norman melds back into the birch trees.</p><p> </p><p>Gideon blinks.</p><p> </p><p>"We're goin' to the crystals, aren't we?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. Yes we are."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Woah." Dipper watches a freshly oversized butterfly bowl over some trees. "This is pretty wild."</p><p> </p><p>Gideon kneels down to a herd of tiny deer. "It's kinda cute!"</p><p> </p><p>"And..." Dipper takes out his screwdriver. "...it's exactly what I'm looking for."</p><p> </p><p>"You're not seriously tryin' to take one, are you?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper looks up from trying to pry out a rock from the ground, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "<em>You're</em> taking the tiny deer."</p><p> </p><p>Gideon looks back down at his mason jar full of tiny deer. "Fair enough."</p><p> </p><p>"Besides," Dipper reassures as he puts a small cut of crystal into his pocket, "I just wanna run some tests, that's all."</p><p> </p><p>"I dunno, Dipper. Seems kinda spooky."</p><p> </p><p>"C'mon," Dipper scoffs. "It's not like I'm gonna shrink somebody's house or anything. If anything gets weird, I can just size it back. Besides," he teases, "haven't you ever wanted to be taller?"</p><p> </p><p>"...You got me there, Pines."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>She finds Dipper and Soos chattering to themselves. "What are you boys on about?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, nothin'," Soos laughs. "Dipper just had a little growth spurt, is all."</p><p> </p><p>"What!" she cries disbelievingly. "Soos, get over here! I want some hard science!"</p><p> </p><p>"Already on it, dudes." Soos stands them back to back and takes out his trusty measuring tape. "Yep. Gideon's right. One solid millimeter."</p><p> </p><p>"Hah! Now we're equal again! No more Alpha Twin!"</p><p> </p><p>"Ptch, whatever," Mabel scoffs. "I still did it first. That means I'm still gonna be taller!" She pumps her fists. "Alpha Twin! Alpha Twin! Alpha Twin!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, well-" Dipper stammers as he goes up the stairs. "-maybe I feel another <em>growth spurt</em> coming on."</p><p> </p><p>He finds Gideon sitting on the floor with the chessboard, giggling as he plays around with the flashlight, shrinking and growing a rook to his own little amusement.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey! My light!"</p><p> </p><p>"Just borrowing it real quick," Dipper reassures, turning it on himself.</p><p> </p><p>"A-HA!" Mabel bursts into the room, pointing an accusing finger at Dipper. "You did a magic thing!"</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Dipper hides the flashlight behind himself. "I just had... puberty, is all."</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper used a magic flashlight to grow himself!" Gideon blurts as soon as Mabel looks in his direction.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God damn it, Gideon.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Mabel's eye catches on the glint of the crystal.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper's eye catches Mabel's eye catch on the glint of the crystal.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper legs it.</p><p> </p><p>Several bobbled hands and shrunken heads later, Gideon's tiny legs finally take him outside and he runs into the fray, trying to stop the fight.</p><p> </p><p>The flashlight's crystal breaks on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Hold on," Stanley suddenly says from the control panel, squinting at the security camera feed of the Shack.</p><p> </p><p>Az and Fiddleford look up from their welding.</p><p> </p><p>"Has anyone seen the kids lately?"</p><p> </p><p>"No," Az calls back. "I don't think so."</p><p> </p><p>"I been hammerin' down here all day!"</p><p> </p><p>With that, Az reactivates his shield, Fiddleford pops back his welding mask, and they get back to work.</p><p> </p><p>Stanley turns back to the camera feed. It's weird. One minute the kids are playing around with some kind of glowstick, and then the next it's like they... </p><p> </p><p>...disappeared, oh</p><p> </p><p>"FUCK!"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>stanley: i haven't seen the kids for a few hours<br/>steven, who often spent days at a time without adult supervision: that's probably fine</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Mason's Jar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two kids in a jar, doodly doo, we're all gonna die, doodly doo...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Did you seriously have to go back for another mason jar?" Dipper echoes into the little glass cage he's currently sharing with his sister.</p><p> </p><p>"Well it ain't like Stan's gonna miss it-"</p><p> </p><p>"He totally will!" Mabel cuts in.</p><p> </p><p>"-and besides," Gideon frowns down at the opening, "would you rather be sharin' room with the herd over here?"</p><p> </p><p>He lifts up the other jarful of tiny deer. Dipper can see the way they absentmindedly clamber over eachother and scrape the glass.</p><p> </p><p>"You have a point there."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel peeks up against the glass. "Where are you taking us, anyway?"</p><p> </p><p>"My place." Gideon crosses the threshold of a disturbingly photogenic baby blue housefront. "I got craft glues and stuff." He scuffs his shoes on the welcome mat, passing a wild haired, nervous looking woman neurotically vacuuming the floor. "Mother."</p><p> </p><p>She says nothing as he walks by, but does hum in a hesitant, almost cheerful way when he draws closer.</p><p> </p><p>"Well isn't <em>she</em> the life of the party," Dipper snarks.</p><p> </p><p>"...I think Daddy does somethin' to her," Gideon admits as he walks up to his room. "We don't... I don't really know what goes on with them two when I ain't around."</p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>Neither twin is quite sure what to say to that.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel squeals as they enter Gideon's room. "You have a little makeup mirror!" she coos adoringly. "I've always wanted one of those!"</p><p> </p><p>"Well yes," Gideon replies awkwardly. "Show biz and all that." He walks past the dresser and <em>oh look, it's a hamster cage</em>. </p><p> </p><p>"Please tell me we're not going in a hamster cage."</p><p> </p><p>"What d'you take me for, Pines? That one's for the deer." Gideon gently tips the twins' jar open onto his crafting table.</p><p> </p><p>There's a bunch of little wooden models of different places in Gravity Falls- even little wooden people. It's almost impressive.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't mind all that." He tips over a little plastic bag of candies. "Y'all hold tight here."</p><p> </p><p>"Your glue stuff is right here, y'know," Dipper points out as Gideon walks off.</p><p> </p><p>"I ain't lookin' for glues." He grabs a book off his shelf, tucking it close to his chest. He looks weirdly twitchy all of the sudden. "Can you, uh... promise not to tell anyone about this?"</p><p> </p><p>"What, that you craft?" Mabel asks. "It's not <em>that</em> weird of a hobby."</p><p> </p><p>"No! I mean-" Gideon's fingers tap nervously along the spine of it. "I- please just promise first."</p><p> </p><p>"O..kay?" Mabel frowns. "What's this all about?"</p><p> </p><p>With a suspicious look around- like even here, in his own room, someone might still secretly be watching- Gideon nervously puts his book down on the desk.</p><p> </p><p>An old, red-covered book, paradoxically pristine, with a golden, six-fingered hand.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Hop Scotch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So where the fuck are the kids?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"I still don't get what we're doing."</p><p> </p><p>"We're trying to find the kids," Stanley grumbles. "I told you this earlier, Az."</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, but... why exactly?" Az frowns. "They were fine the last time we saw them."</p><p> </p><p>"Because-" Stanley sputters. "-<em>Because! </em>Okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's a bit concernin' that they gone vanished all the sudden in a town like this, is all," Fiddleford clarifies.</p><p> </p><p>"They could have gotten yoinked or something!" Stanley growls.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh!" Az blinks with a new understanding. "They're fine, Stanley."</p><p> </p><p>"How would <em>you</em> know?"</p><p> </p><p>Az fiddles with his hands a bit. "I can kind of just feel it? Seeing as how we're related, and I've given them little, uh... <em>bits</em> of my ichor." At Stanley's suspicious look, he backtracks with a small wave of his hands. "It's nothing weird! Just a few good morning kisses here and there when they've gotten scrapes. There's enough of me in their system that I can kind of key in on them. I don't really know where they are because the signal's not very strong, but it doesn't feel like the kids are in danger. Mabel and Mason at least."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Oh thank fuck.</em>" Stanley leans back against. Fucking. Those giant signs that have maps mounted on them, whatever the fuck they're called. Stanley can't be bothered to remember right now.</p><p> </p><p>He kneels down and starts drawing on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>"Whatcha got goin' down there?" Fiddleford asks.</p><p> </p><p>"I wanna know where the fuck they are so I can be creepy about it when they come back," Stanley explains as he draws his spell on the ground. "Serves them right for givin' me a heart attack."</p><p> </p><p>"Is this human magic?" Az wonders as he kneels down with Stanley to get a better look at it.</p><p> </p><p>"Just a little somethin' I picked up from back in my hobo days." As he finishes drawing the symbol on the ground, he takes out a small compass and lays it in the middle. It spins wildly for a few moments before settling in a particular, not-quite-north direction, and he picks it up, laying it on the mounted town map. He moves it around, watching the way the needle moves, until...</p><p> </p><p>...it settles, spinning, on the Gleeful house.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, they're just at Gideon's."</p><p> </p><p>Wait.</p><p> </p><p>"Why the fuck are they at Gideon's-"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Why are you doing this?" Dipper despairs.</p><p> </p><p>"Because you dared me to," Mabel smiles.</p><p> </p><p>"Literally no one asked you to do this. I said <em>no, don't do that</em> and than you said <em>you can't tell <span class="u">me</span> what to do</em>, and now we're sitting here waiting for you to die."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel scoffs from her lofty perch on Gideon's pet hamster. "I'm not gonna die! I just wanna take Cheekums here for a little joyride, that's all! Get it?" she laughs with a puffy giggle. "A <em>little</em>-"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, yes, we get the joke."</p><p> </p><p>"You're just jealous because Alpha Twin is better at everything than you."</p><p> </p><p>"I hate this." Dipper stares into the distance. "I hate all of this."</p><p> </p><p>Bleep bloopa doop boop!" She slaps the hamster on the forehead. "Onwards, Aoshima!"</p><p> </p><p>Cheekums, previously almost catatonically unresponsive to anything around her, suddenly flares to life, an eager shine in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait, Cheekums, no!" Gideon cries.</p><p> </p><p>But it was too late. Cheekums was already barreling off the edge of the table, leaping off of the hardwood and careening down to the floor below.</p><p> </p><p>But never reaching it.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel and Cheekums are held in the air, slowly floating upwards to the rhythm of Gideon's outstretched hand, settling back on the table.</p><p> </p><p>They all look back to Gideon. The boy looks down at his own hand in shock.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Oh heavens to Betsy.</em>"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Falrisesi's tablet goes <em>brrr</em> so you get to have Someone Else instead.<br/>-Aenor</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Samael is occupied<em></em></em><br/><em>and so with me, you'll have to tide.</em></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Fixin' It With Soos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Now don't touch that button, ya hear?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Gideon looks down at Unsuccessful Glue Attempt Number Billion. "I have no idea what I'm doing."</p><p> </p><p>"Can't you just," Mabel waggles her hands, "bloopy-doop-bloop it together with you wacky albino voodoo?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, what <em>was</em> that anyway?" Dipper asks. "I thought you couldn't <em>do</em> magic stuff without the amulet."</p><p> </p><p>"Well <em>I</em> thought so too." Gideon frowns to himself. "Maybe the amulet gave me... <em>leftovers?</em> Or somethin'. I don't really know what happened, either."</p><p> </p><p>"Ooh!" Mabel's eyes get starry with her latest thought. "Maybe you were magic all along! It's like the magic feather from Dumbo!"</p><p> </p><p>"The what now?"</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know," Mabel waves her hands, "He thinks that the feather is what makes him fly, but it was actually him all along-"</p><p> </p><p>"We are GETTING OFF TOPIC here!" Dipper yells. "Sorry." He takes a breath. "Shouldn't have shouted. What I <em>assume</em> Mabel is driving at is that maybe your magic powers could fix the crystal."</p><p> </p><p>"I-I don't know. I'm still not sure how I did it in the first place."</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe it's one of those <em>sink-or-swim</em> things. Like baby birds." Mabel's grin turns manic. "We gotta throw you off of a tree!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Please don't toss me off a tree.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>No one</em> is pushing anyone of a tree," Dipper reassures with a very pointed squint in Mabel's direction, "and let's maybe not test Gideon's kid magic on an unstable magical artifact that we need in order to not be mouse people forever." He looks back to the poor progress of gluing the crystal back together. "What's the word on our current method?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not lookin' good, Pines." Gideon leans his head on his fist. "The glue can't seem to hold it together, and even when it does it looks like the glue gets in the way of it workin'."</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe the glue isn't see-through enough?" Dipper suggests. "Like it isn't letting the light refract correctly, or something."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, oh!" Mabel hops up and down within a plastic gummy bear bag. "Grunkle Stan has these craft glues for the stuff in the shack that gets all super transparenty when they dry out!"</p><p> </p><p>"Guess I'm takin' the bus," Gideon sighs, opening up the jar for the twins again.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Gideon swings his legs on the bench, flashlight in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, cutie!" Lazy Susan calls out next to him. "Where are you headed today!"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm gonna save my friends from their tiny magical destiny!" Gideon cheerfully replies.</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, you're so creative!"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Mabel poses triumphantly on Gideon's shoulders. And frowns.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know where the glue is."</p><p> </p><p>"God damn it Mabel." Dipper drags his hands down his face. "Why would you haul us over here if you don't even know where we're supposed to look?"</p><p> </p><p>"Woah, calm down now, y'all." Gideon shuffles awkwardly on his feet. "Let's just think about where you might've seen it last."</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm." Mabel tugs at her hair. "Maybe in the main stage room?"</p><p> </p><p>It's a good idea. Except for the fact the main stage room has been turned into a giant mirror maze.</p><p> </p><p>Once more, with feeling. <em>God damn it.</em></p><p> </p><p>"I'm not goin' in there," Gideon mutters.</p><p> </p><p>"You know what, Gideon?" Dipper raises up a finger, then pauses. "Actually, no. That's fair. I don't wanna go in there either."</p><p> </p><p>"Soos probably knows!" Mabel cups her hands in front of her. "<em>SOOS! </em>Get over here!"</p><p> </p><p>The chubby mechanic peeks his head out from the maze of glass. "Whomst?"</p><p> </p><p>"Down here, Soos!"</p><p> </p><p>"Gideon?" He squints down at the kid. "Why are you talking like <em>MADRE DE DIOS</em>, <em>a tiny Mabel!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Soos," Dipper waves from Gideon's other shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>"Why are you kids all tiny like GUYS toys?" Soos blinks. "Except you, Gideon. You're still the same."</p><p> </p><p>"We got donked by a magic crystal," Mabel says. "Not naming any names... <em><strike>Dipper-</strike>"</em></p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" Dipper cries. "You're the one who wanted to play around!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>You're</em> the one who tried to use magic to be taller!"</p><p> </p><p>"Only because <em>you</em> won't stop rubbing it in my face-"</p><p> </p><p>"Woah, woah, dudes. Hold the phone." Soos picks up the twins. "Now give the phone to me. You guys getting all shouty at eachother isn't going to get you back to normal. You guys wanted me for something, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"My glue ain't workin' to put the crystal back together," Gideon pipes up. "So we were wantin' Mr. Pines' glues t' see if that did it good."</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm." Soos scratches at his stubble. "Can I see the pieces?" Gideon takes out the shards from his pocket, and Soos looks at the collected pieces with a sage nod. "I can fix it no problem, dudes."</p><p> </p><p>"Wait, really?" Dipper squints with some mild skepticism. "This isn't some kind of rickety car."</p><p> </p><p>"Not to worry, <em>amigos</em>." Soos waggles his hands in the air. "I have <em>the power!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>He waggles his hands a little more.</p><p> </p><p>"Imagine, like. Lightning coming out of my hands or something."</p><p> </p><p>The kids looks back at eachother.</p><p> </p><p>"Can't hurt to give you a shot, I guess."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Three suspiciously loud minutes later, Soos presents a completely intact crystal.</p><p> </p><p>"HOW."</p><p> </p><p>"I fixed it!"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper looks down at the crystal, and it's complete lack of seams where the cracks should have been. "But HOW? There's not even a spec of glue on it!"</p><p> </p><p>Soos passes his hand through the air mysteriously. "That's the power of Fixing Healing™."</p><p> </p><p>"This is physically impossible-" Dipper stops himself with a deep breath.  "You know what? I'll freak out later. I just want to stop being a mouse person."</p><p> </p><p>"And <em>I</em> wanna be back to Alpha Twin!" Mabel pumps her fists. "Alpha Twin! Alpha Twin!"</p><p> </p><p>"No! No Alpha Twin!" Dipper argues. "I want my extra millimeter!"</p><p> </p><p>"But that's <em>my</em> millimeter!" Mabel insists. "I grew it fair and square, you just- <em>you cheated!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Because- because <em>you</em> wouldn't stop holding it over my head!" Dipper claws at his hat. "You do this <em>every</em> time! Every time I end up worse off then you, you act like it makes you better! I'm just-" Dipper groans. "-I'm just kind of sick of it, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper..."</p><p> </p><p>"Whatever, man." Dipper kicks at the table. "Let's just get this over with."</p><p> </p><p>When Soos carefully measures them back to size, when Mabel is back to being that one little millimeter taller...</p><p> </p><p>...she gives Dipper a hug.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry," Mabel whispers. "I thought we were just playing, but we weren't. I'll stop."</p><p> </p><p>"...Okay."</p><p> </p><p>"...Wanna make this an awkward sibling hug?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper smiles under his hat. "Okay. Awkward sibling hug."</p><p> </p><p>The both wear comically blank faces and pat eachother mechanically. "Pat. Pat."</p><p> </p><p>"Well thank goodness," Gideon finally says. "I was <em>not</em> lookin' forward to the business end of Stan's bat when I was gonna have to tell 'im what happened."</p><p> </p><p>"Tell Stanley what?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper screams and instinctively points the flashlight at the sudden intruder before realizing who it was.</p><p> </p><p>Az squints his eyes closed at the sudden light in his face. "Mason, please. Point that away from my eyes."</p><p> </p><p>The flashlight is on... and Az isn't shrinking.</p><p> </p><p><em>What the actual fuck</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper turns off the light. "Yeah, sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"Anyway," Az goes on like he didn't just display immunity to a volatile magical object, "where were y'all earlier today? Stanley was getting worried."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you know." Dipper shrugs. "At Gideon's house."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, alright." Az turns his eyes on the flashlight itself. "Oh, hey. You've got a little gizmo thing on it. Did you make that? It's kinda cute." He leans closer, like he's going to reach for it. "How'd ya-"</p><p> </p><p>"AAA!" Mabel suddenly rips the crystal off it's hinge and slams the crystal on the ground. "DIE! DIE! DIE UNHOLY THING!"</p><p> </p><p>With her triumphant shattering of it under her heels, Az actually flinches at the sight, backing away with an almost frightened look on his face.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel stops. "Are you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ss-s-sorry I just-" Az lets out an unsteady laugh. "Breaking thing-g-s... bad memories-s-is all..."</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, Az," Dipper apologizes. "We can fix it."</p><p> </p><p>"You d-d-don't <em>have</em> to-"</p><p> </p><p>"No, it's not too hard?" Mabel turns back to Soos. "Right, Soos?"</p><p> </p><p>Soos adjusts his hat. "I am once more called upon in your hour of need."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"You should probably put like- a cap on the light so you can't accidentally zap anyone, dudes."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that's smart."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <em>As you can quiet plainly see</em>
  <br/>
  <em>our little deer is not yet free,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>and so, it seems, you're stuck with me.</em>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Watching Like A Cat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where work and fun go different than planned.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"What's all this then?" Uncle Az looks out at Mabel and her friends' well made costumes being laid out. "I thought all that Halloween stuff was more for fall."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not Halloween, it's Summerween," Candy corrects. "In Gravity Falls, we like Halloween so much we do it twice a year!"</p><p> </p><p>"With watermelons instead of pumpkins!" Grenda adds cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, that's adorable!" Az looks over to Dipper. "What about you, Mason? What are you going as?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, uh," Dipper pulls up an old album, "me and Mabel always did coordinated stuff. People love twin costumes, really reels in the candy."</p><p> </p><p>"Sounds fun! Wish I could see it."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel's face falls a little. "You're not gonna be here for Summerween?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not going to duck in on your guy's fun with my old man vibes." Az takes a bit of Loser<strong>TM</strong> candy from Soos' bowl and just eats it like some kind of godless monster. "I'll just be hacking away at the Shack doin' extra stuff."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Can you watch the kids today?"</p><p> </p><p>Steven frowns. "I thought we were doing more portal work like usual."</p><p> </p><p>"Not tonight." Stanley dusts off his vampire suit. "There's a reason we have a Halloween prequel here. The spook magic in the air tonight is just as bad as October. If we try to hammer away at the hole puncher tonight of all nights, something's gonna try and brute force its way through."</p><p> </p><p>"Besides," Fiddleford adds as he puts the finishing touches on a flamboyantly colorful animatronic crab, "When yer gone wizard like we have, y'gotta take time t' respectin' them human ritual nonsense."</p><p> </p><p>"But there's fuckin' spooks out." Stanley pops his collar in the mirror. "Kids are usually safe just by observin' the holiday, but God knows the twins are just a damn magnet for weird shit."</p><p> </p><p>"You think they might've got a bit of wizard in them?" Steven asks.</p><p> </p><p>"Probably. Either way, they look a bit more vulnerable to gettin' snatched by wacky magic bullshit, so I want you to keep an eye on them."</p><p> </p><p>Despite definitely himself filing under Stanley's definition of Wacky Magic Bullshit, Steven shrugs and goes along with it anyway. "Alright. I'll watch them like a dog."</p><p> </p><p>"It's <em>watch like a hawk</em>, Az."</p><p> </p><p>"I'll watch them like a cat."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. He's A Frozen Treat With An All New Taste, 'Cuz He Came To This Planet From Outer Space!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An uncatty resemblance.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"<em>Oh M. Gosh,</em>" Candy gasps. "<em>A baby! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>A round faced black cat sits on the outside couch of the Shack porch, meowing at their approach.</p><p> </p><p>"That's not a baby," Dipper points out, horrified. "It's bigger than <em>Waddles.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"A baby," Grenda asserts.</p><p> </p><p>"The babiest," Mabel whispers. "<em>Hello, baby,</em>" she coos as she draws closer.</p><p> </p><p>"Its hair is so soft and fluffy," Candy whispers, "like cotton candy of the night."</p><p> </p><p>"Woah, guys, check out the eyes!" Dipper points out.</p><p> </p><p>Its eyes are unsettlingly dark, with a pale ring of color around the edges- the right eye ringed a pale moonish yellow, the left a sunny pink-orange. And it was kind of creepy, because it created the illusion of the cat having cartoonishly wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper." Mabel shakes at his sleeve. "Dipper, do you know what this means?"</p><p> </p><p>"That this cat the size of an eight year old child is probably possessed?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Its a Cookie Cat, Dipper</em>." <em>Oh no, not this shit again.</em></p><p> </p><p>"A what now?" Grenda asks.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel excitedly roots through her phone (his and Mabel's phone, technically, but Mabel <em>always</em> hogged it) and pulls up a picture of that dumb ice cream sandwich, putting it next to the cat. "Is the resemblance not uncanny?" She points at the picture. "The right eye is the strawberry and the left eye is the vanilla!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh," Grenda says, "I get it now."</p><p> </p><p>"The resemblance is... un-<em>catty</em>," Candy giggles.</p><p> </p><p>"I still think the eyes are creepy." Dipper cringes at the insufferable smile on Mabel's face. "Oh no. Please don't-"</p><p> </p><p>"AWWWWW YEAAAAH!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God in heaven, help me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"<em>He's a frozen treat, with an all-new taste,</em>" Mabel raps, " '<em>cuz he came, to this planet, from outer SPACE!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"<em>A refugee,</em>" Candy continues, "<em>from an interstellar war-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Now available at- YOUR LOCAL GROCERY STORE!</em> " Mabel yells.</p><p> </p><p>"There is no God," Dipper whispers. "God is dead and we killed him."</p><p> </p><p>"COOKIE CAT!" Candy shouts in her accented voice.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel slaps her belly. "<em>He's a pet for your tummy! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"COOKIE CAT!" Grenda joins in.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>He's super-duper yummy! </em>" Candy sings with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>"COOKIE CAT!" Grenda yells again.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>He left his family behind,</em>" Candy whispers somberly.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper blinks. "Wait what-"</p><p> </p><p>"<strong>COOKIE CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!</strong>" The girls finish, shouting into the sky like the end of some Satanic ritual. </p><p> </p><p>"Is it over?" Dipper asks sarcastically. "Are you done paying tribute to your ice cream gods?"</p><p> </p><p>"Never!" Mabel stage-whispers in retaliation, picking up the child-sized cat in her arms like a baby. The cat, for some reason, has no problem with this. "This cat shall be the avatar of our religion!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, oh!" Candy flaps her arms up and down. "What if we made it a Cookie Cat costume? We still have time before tonight!"</p><p> </p><p>"So much cuteness," Grenda giggles deviously. "So much candy!"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper rolls his eyes, gently tugging the cat out of Mabel's arms. "Sweet Moses, guys. Think of the poor cat." The cat is a bit lighter than expected- heavy, but somehow just light enough for him to carry.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel waves a hand flippantly. "It'll be <em>fine</em>. Such a sweet kitty, <em>yes you are, yes you are</em>." She gently squishes its face as it trills happily. "He even has a happy white mustache. It's like the Cookie Cat smile."</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, <em>fine</em>." Dipper sighs, making sure not to drop the cat as he sags dramatically. "Just don't make me hold him down for your weird Barbie dress up."</p><p> </p><p>The cat's purring rattles into his bones like a motorbike engine.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>steven is a closet cookie cat cosplayer and dipper is a filthy lion lickers apologist</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Candy Cat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dipper hates trick-or-treating.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>He is awake again.</p><p> </p><p>Why? Who has brought him back to terrible existence?</p><p> </p><p>Who would dare bring him forth into suffering?</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Stupid loser candy...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Far away, into the woods, he hears it. A great pull of magic, drawing him forth just as much as it disparages him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The ungratefulness.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The <strong>disrespect</strong>.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The Trickster pulls his decrepit form back into shape and stalks to his summoner.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>The girls have somehow created a Cookie Cat costume.</p><p> </p><p>The girls have somehow gotten the cat to wear it. Somehow.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you <em>mean</em> you can't go trick or treating?" Mabel cries. "We go together <em>every</em> year! What about our costumes?"</p><p> </p><p>"Mabel, I just-" <em>don't feel like it</em>. "-I just don't feel well, okay?" He coughs again for good measure. <em>Please just go already</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"But what about the candy haul?" She slaps her jam jar costume dramatically. "Co-ordination, Dipper!"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper groans. "You're taking the weird cat with you! Isn't that, like, enough cute factor to make up for my absence?" He fake coughs again for good measure.</p><p> </p><p>"No it's <em>not-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>There's a knock on the door.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"<em>Trick or treat."</em></strong>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Dipper hates this.</p><p> </p><p>He hates this so fucking much.</p><p> </p><p>He's trick-or-treating in a peanut costume with a gaggle of girls, Waddles, a probably possessed cat, and Soos. This is somehow not the weirdest thing he's ever done, and he doesn't know how to feel about that.</p><p> </p><p>At least the pig and cat seem to be having a fun time riding around in the wheelbarrow. Despite being surrounded by candy, neither animal has eaten a single bite- because Mabel told them not to, and for some reason they're listening.</p><p> </p><p>But it's not <em>too</em> bad, he guesses. There's worse ways to fight for your life than Trick Or Treat Or Die, and it's... nostalgic, to dance door-to-door with Mabel. the way they did when they were kids.</p><p> </p><p>So by the time he's waiting for the girls to come back with that legendary 500th piece of candy, he's actually kind of okay with the whole situation.</p><p> </p><p>And there's even still time to make it to Wendy's party! Things are going great...</p><p> </p><p>...until the exact moment Robbie's van starts pulling up around the corner. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck fuck fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He quickly tosses off his costume into the wheelbarrow, to some mild protest from Waddles, and pushes the whole thing into the bushes (from some mild protest from the cat.)</p><p> </p><p>"Hey man," Wendy leans out the window, "still making it to Tambry's party?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah, totally!" Dipper gives off a hopefully casual thumbs up. "Just taking the long walk. Watching the trick-or-treaters. Nostalgia, y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>"I feel that." Wendy retreats back into the car. "Well, I'll see you at the party, man. We gotta go." She whacks Robbie on the shoulder. "Wouldn't wanna miss <em>Tambry's big entrance</em>, right Robbie?"</p><p> </p><p>Robbie blushes. "Shut up."</p><p> </p><p>Well thank fuck.</p><p> </p><p>There's a sudden creak from the wheelbarrow. It starts tipping back, down into a ditch that <em>he swears on Moses wasn't there when he looked</em>.</p><p> </p><p>While Waddles squirms for his piggy life, the cat dashes up to the very front of the barrow, landing meaningfully on its edge. The whole thing suddenly tips forward like a giant weight just dropped on it.</p><p> </p><p>Then the cat starts meowing beseechingly at him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." The candy rattles ominously as he tugs the wheelbarrow away. The handles almost dug themselves into the ground somehow. Weird.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mjeh.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm <em>sorry</em>, okay? I had to! I couldn't let Wendy see me-"</p><p> </p><p>"-see what?" Mabel pipes up. And frowns. "Why is your costume off? Where you ditching us?"</p><p> </p><p>"No!" <em>Not yet.</em> "The wheelbarrow almost fell into a ditch and I had to run after it."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"You would dare to be so careless with my offerings?"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Candy screams, scrabbling back. The Trickster crawls out spiderlike behind the impossible space of a streetlight.</p><p> </p><p>A spindly hand reaches out for them.<strong> "If this is the respect you treat me with, then you shall pay for it with your-"</strong></p><p> </p><p>Before he reaches for Mabel, he flinches, pulling back as though burned. He scrambles backwards up the streetlight with a spitting hiss- glaring hatefully, behind his cheerful mask, at the cat Mabel is hugging against her body.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel's wide eyed fear becomes a spiteful grin. "What is it, Mr. Trickster? Something wrong?" She holds up the cat towards him. "You don't like cats?"</p><p> </p><p>His masked face suddenly turns to Candy and Grenda, leaping towards them.</p><p> </p><p>"Guys! Quick!" Dipper shouts. "Get behind Mabel!"</p><p> </p><p>Grenda looks back at the wheelbarrow. "But what about the candy-"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think he gives a shit about that right now!" Dipper picks up Waddle's by his adorable suit and books it.</p><p> </p><p>It's as weird as it sounds. Three kids huddled behind a girl in a strawberry costume, holding up an astronaut cat like a mighty shield as a giant scarecrow of a monster circles around them with all the grace of the world's ugliest, skinniest frog. Every time he tries to get close, Mabel whirls around, putting the cat in his face.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"Quit shoving that... ABOMINATION in my face!"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"Then stop trying to eat us, jerk!" Grenda barks.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"I will take my dues as is MY RIGHT-"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>But who cares what he would have said then? Soos is here, and has promptly splattered a spirit with his pick up truck.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, dudes!" Soos pushes out of the car, barely bothering to even open the door. "You kids okay?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper holds out his hands. "Wait, Soos, stay back-"</p><p> </p><p>But the Trickster was already putting itself back together. With an even more ridiculous amount of limbs than before, he grabs at Soos and plops the man into his gaping, unhinged mouth.</p><p> </p><p>"SOOS!"</p><p> </p><p>The cat takes advantage of Mabel's horror to squirm out her hold and sprint directly towards the beast like some kind of maverick. It leaps up and kicks right at the Trickster's chest, and the monster falls down like timber, crashing into the concrete. The Trickster lays on the ground coughing, spitting out Soos in the process.</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"A hobo cat we put in an astronaut costume just saved our lives," Candy whispers, shellshocked.</p><p> </p><p>"You okay over there, Soos?" Mabel shouts.</p><p> </p><p>Soos chews with puffed cheeks. "Yeah dudes, I just got a bunch of candy in my mouth for some reason." After some more rabbitish chewing, he scarfs down the last of the inexplicable candy debris stuck in his mouth. "Hmm. Not bad, actually."</p><p> </p><p><strong>"You..." </strong>the Trickster weakly turns his head to Soos. <strong>"You actually liked me...?"</strong></p><p> </p><p>"What, is this, like, your body or something?" Soos takes another bite. "Sure, I guess. Candy is candy, y'know. It's all good."</p><p> </p><p><strong>"That's all I ever wanted..." </strong>The spirit actually cries candy tears at that. <strong>"...all I wanted was for someone to say that I was good..." </strong></p><p> </p><p>With one last tired laugh, the Summerween Trickster fades away, until there's nothing left but a pile of weird candy and an old cloth hat.</p><p> </p><p>"Holy shit, Soos!" Dipper runs over to help the guy up. "You just saved our lives!"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel runs up to the big cat, who lost its costume in the struggle. "And so did <em>you! </em>" She rubs at its face. "Sweet baby."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Myah.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>The cat sits on the couch on the porch.</p><p> </p><p>It's late now. Dipper should be in bed, but he's not. The Journal had been whispering to him again, the way it tended to do at night, and sometimes he couldn't fall asleep with all the noise. He looks down at the cat.</p><p> </p><p>"You're probably gonna go soon, aren't you?"</p><p> </p><p>The cat looks back at him.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't play dumb." Dipper points accusingly at its tiny nose. "We both know you can understand me perfectly fine. But anyways, uh-" he reaches out a hand to pet it. "-thanks for saving us, back there."</p><p> </p><p>The cat leans its face into the touch... and then gives a big, sandpaper lick to his hand, right on one of his fresh cuts.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey! Gross!" He flaps his hands disgustedly, and the cat smugly dodges his flying hands. "Why did you <em>do</em> that?"</p><p> </p><p>The cat just drops off the couch instead of answering him.</p><p> </p><p>"No, get back here. Answer for your unsanitary crimes!"</p><p> </p><p>With a chriping trill that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, the cat winks- actually winks at him- and catapults weightlessly into the air, disappearing over the roof of the Shack with a trail of pink flower petals in its wake.</p><p> </p><p>The cut on Dipper's hand is gone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Not That Interesting At All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just checking.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Millionaire Biscuit</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>connie</p><p> </p><p>it's 1AM</p><p> </p><p>Yes. And?</p><p> </p><p>fair</p><p>what's up</p><p> </p><p>What's that one fantasy word?</p><p> </p><p>there's a lot of words, steven</p><p> </p><p>Hecc</p><p>The, uh</p><p>Wizard person who can summon dead guys.</p><p> </p><p>necromancer</p><p> </p><p>Yes, that! Thank you.</p><p>Don't worry, this will make sense in like a month.</p><p> </p><p>???</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>At around ten, the kids have all fallen asleep by now.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Stanley." Az looks up from his phone at him, as though he were simply discussing a particularly interesting leaf. "By the way, Mason is a necromancer."</p><p> </p><p>"HAHAHA!" Fiddleford's cackle echoes from within his animatronic crab. "I done knew it!"</p><p> </p><p>"Huh." Stanley takes a sip of his beer, and then promptly chokes on it. "Wait, he fucking WHAT-"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. -LOOK WHAT I DID TO YOUR OTHER HAND-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dipper's dream.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>The roof is gone and the sky is on fire.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper opens his eyes to their room, devoid of any memory of anyone ever there. An empty, life-scale model of reality <em>and the night is on fire.</em></p><p> </p><p>The roof isn't gone- it floats just like everything else, suspended like a drowned man.</p><p> </p><p>He can't move.</p><p> </p><p>The roof and Mabel's bed and everything, everything is marching inevitably toward some terrible silent whirlpool just outside of his vision and he can't move, something is coming, crawling up his back like spiders and <em>he can't move.</em></p><p> </p><p>A white reptilian eye creeps into his vision.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-<span class="u">HEY THERE</span>-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Dipper screams (very manly...ly, I assure you), scrambling back as his body suddenly starts obeying him again. "What the fuck are you?"</p><p> </p><p><strong>-</strong> <span class="u"> <strong>NAME'S</strong> </span> <strong><span class="u"> BILL, NICE TO MEET YA</span>- </strong></p><p> </p><p>The, uh, apparition? The apparition tips its tall top hat, and with it, the very fulcrum of gravity shifts, leaving Dipper clawing at the floor for purchase before the hat makes it's way back to the odd flat pyramid of the creature's head. There is no mouth, no face for it to smile from, but as its singular eye roams and rotates around the flat circumference of its body to follow Dipper's struggle, it seems vaguely amused.</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>NICE SUBCONSIOUS YA GOT HERE, DIPPER</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>"H-how did you know my name?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">OH, I KNOW LOTS OF THINGS</span>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Something predatory enters the slit of the being's glowing eye as its small, golden body warps closer.</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>YOU'RE SCARED TO DEATH OF UNCERTAINTY</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>Another 'Bill' walks into existence behind the first one.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">YOUR REAL NAME ISN'T DIPPER</span>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The 'original' splits in half.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">YOU HAVE THREE DIFFERENT PLANS TO MURDER YOUR UNCLE IN HIS SLEEP, 'JUST IN CASE'</span>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>One 'Bill' jumps out or another's tipped hat with a teasing squint.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-</strong> <span class="u"> <strong>OH, THIS IS</strong> </span> <strong><span class="u"> INTERESTING</span>-</strong></p><p><strong>-</strong> <span class="u"> <strong>YOU</strong> <strong> SURE THINK ALOT ABOUT THIS RED-HEADED CASHIER GIRL</strong> </span> <strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>An ugly blush rises in Dipper's face while the other 'Bills' crowd around the last one, mockingly asking for details and theatrically whispering among themselves.</p><p> </p><p>-<strong><span class="u">HO-OH, THAT IS SCANDALOUS</span></strong>-</p><p> </p><p>"DUDE!" Dipper flaps his arms beseechingly as his face goes red. "<em>What do you want from me! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>The little crowd looks back at him, as if only just remembering he had any significance. </p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>OH RIGHT</strong></span><strong>- </strong></p><p> </p><p><em>Okay, ouch. </em>Bill merges back together.</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>SO GET</strong></span><strong><span class="u"> THIS</span>-</strong><span class="u"></span></p><p> </p><p>Bill's eye projects out a friendly-looking screen that shutters over a grainy picture of the Pines, posing in front of the Mystery Shack.</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>LONG STORY SHORT, I NEED TO STEAL A CODE FROM YOUR UNCLE'S MIND</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p><strong>-</strong> <span class="u"> <strong>IT'S COMPLICATED</strong> </span> <strong>- </strong></p><p><strong>-</strong> <span class="u"> <strong>PRETTY SERIOUS STUFF</strong> </span> <strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>Bill blinks out its projection, suddenly transfixed by something on the floor.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-<span class="u">HEY, WHAT'S THIS</span>- </strong>It picks up a paddle ball. <strong>-<span class="u">PADDLE, PADDLE, PADDLE</span>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>"Hold up, hold up." Dipper clutches at his head. "You're gonna steal a code by what, entering Grunkle Stan's dreams?"</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>SURE</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>Bill looks up at him, impassive.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">JUST LIKE I ENTERED YOURS</span>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It looks off into the distance.</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>HEY, WHAT'S THAT</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>"What-"</p><p> </p><p>Bill snaps his fingers, and the Shack is gone. The ground is gone.</p><p> </p><p>There's nothing left but the sky, and Dipper starts to fall.</p><p> </p><p>Bill floats leisurely alongside him, shrugging its spidery limbs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">I BET YOU'RE WONDERING IF THERE'S A WAY TO STOP ME</span>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It raises a finger indulgently, pointing with its cane.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">WELL, I DON'T WANNA GIVE YOU ANY HINTS</span>-</strong>
</p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>BUT I BET THERE'S A WAY FOR YOU TO FOLLOW ME INTO HIS BRAIN</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p> </p><p>As they fall past the clouds, he sees it. A big stone mountain, but not quite. A giant carved landscape that looks exactly like Grunkle Stan's sleeping head, fez and all. Bill starts to drift away.</p><p> </p><p>-<span class="u"><strong>WELL, SEE YOU IN YOUR NIGHTMARES, KID</strong></span><strong>-</strong></p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">WINK</span>-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">YOU CAN'T TELL, BUT I'M WINKING</span>-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">ONE EYE</span>-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-<span class="u">OK BYE</span>-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>With that awkward joke, Bill starts shoddily careening into the distance with all the grace of a starfish. Dipper starts plummeting faster and faster, and just before he reaches the ground</p><p> </p><p>he wakes up on the couch, the TV still running the last of its Summerween marathon.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, holy shit." Dipper hugs at his legs, a tired, grateful smile on his face. "Just a dream."</p><p> </p><p>...There's something on his hand.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>THE DREAM WAS REAL</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-BILL</em>
</p><p>
  <em>(LOOK WHAT I DID TO YOUR OTHER HAND)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dipper looks at his other hand.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>LOOK, A TURKEY</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dipper crawls over to Mabel, slapping her sweater pockets until he finds their phone.</p><p> </p><p>"Gideon, get over here, we've got a situation! Bring your Journal! Now!"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dipper's dream was ripped from the original storyboards of the episode <em>dreamscaperers</em></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. The Diamond Heist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You miscalculated.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>The first thing that goes wrong is that Az answers the door before Dipper can- and like any reasonable adult, he's wondering what the hell Gideon is doing at the shack so early in the morning. Though he may have said nicer words than that. Dipper isn't quite paying attention at this point. He doesn't even remember what excuse Mabel blurted out before dragging the kid into the Shack.</p><p> </p><p>The second thing that goes wrong is the fact that everyone's sort of crashed in the living room from yesterday's Summerween movie marathon.</p><p> </p><p>There is no time to be discreet. There is no time to be sneaky. There is no time to lie.</p><p> </p><p>And then Az asked Dipper what was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>And he hears the whisper that screams on the inside of his jacket pocket, <em>trust no one trust no one trust no one trust no one</em>-</p><p> </p><p>And the third thing that goes wrong is that Dipper tells the truth.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>The fourth thing that goes wrong is that Az believes him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We don't need to panic, Mason. Let's just check if Stanley's alright first, okay?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Az had smiled then, and for a moment, things made sense. Everything was going to be alright.</p><p> </p><p>(The fifth thing that went wrong was that Dipper had believed him. He'd looked another well-intentioned adult in the eye and believed him, and he fucking paid for it.)</p><p> </p><p>They were just going to check and see if Grunkle Stan was physically okay, to start with.</p><p> </p><p>It was just a check. <em>It was just a check.</em></p><p> </p><p>Az had put a hand on Stan's face, checking his breathing or something, when Stan had suddenly opened his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The barest whisper against his mind, <em>THANKS FOR LETTING ME IN, PINE TREE.</em></p><p> </p><p><em>Wait.</em> "Wait, Az, don't-"</p><p> </p><p>A glowing, white hot blaze that flashes gold as it jumped out of Stan's eyes, right into Az's. Az cries out, stumbling back against the stone of the walls, a hand clamped over his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Stan suddenly starts back to life, bolting up from his armchair. "What the shit-" He rubs at his eyes. "Why the fuck do I feel like a hangover, <em>fuck.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel runs over to him, probably hugging at his belly or whatever, Dipper wasn't looking. "You're okay!"</p><p> </p><p>"Uh-huh, sure sweetie." He looks back at Dipper and Gideon. "Any of you little bastards wanna tell me what the hell just happened?"</p><p> </p><p>But their eyes are not for him.</p><p> </p><p>"Um, Mr. Pines-" Gideon almost walks closer to Az before Dipper pulls him back. "Mr. Pines, are you alright?"</p><p> </p><p>Stan finally takes notice of the full scene. "Woah, Az. You good there?"</p><p> </p><p>Az has slid down the wall a little, hand still harshly clamped over his eyes. Shaking, hissing breaths turn to stuttering, boyish, bubbling laughter as his hand limply falls down from his face.</p><p> </p><p><strong>"I'M F̵̢͙͙̳̘̜͚̘̫͉̟͕̈́̾̇̔̎̃̆͛̓͊̈͠ͅ-̸̠̺̘̙̞̋̾̃͗͒̏͌̑͒͜F̴̱̮͚͉͔͖͈̔̂̅̽͆̐̓̒͆͂̆͝͠-̸̡̡͔͓̤̻̰̗̽̇̋̇̏F̵̽INE, ST-T-TANLEY PINES,"</strong> Az shakily smiles with golden, reptilian eyes.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Twisted Whispers Rising, Like A Voice You've Forgotten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Voices unheard, unknown, unfound.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Az?" Stanley takes a small step forward. (A small step to be between Az and the kids.) "You still with us?"</p><p> </p><p><strong>"HaHAAHaHa..."</strong> Az- or whatever the fuck is piloting that body right now, because that bent giggle sounds straight <em>wrong</em> coming out of him- staggers off the wall like some kind of drunkard.</p><p> </p><p>(Is it not used to piloting bodies, or is this Az's resistance? Stanley needs more fucking data!) </p><p> </p><p>A glowing snake's eye looks back at Stanley. <strong>"THERE THERE APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN S-SOME COMPLICATIONS, STANLEY PINES. WE APPEAR TO TO TO TO TO TO-" </strong>Gold twitches pink. <strong>"-VE CAUGHT A PAS-S-ENGER."</strong></p><p> </p><p>"What in the flying fuck does-"</p><p> </p><p>A sudden persistent click enters Az's song as his breath seizes, and when he manages to crawl back to something vaguely imitating standing like a person, his eyes are dark again. "This has never happened before," he giggles unsteadily. "I don't d-d-d-d-" The yellow gleam starts creeping up his eyes again. <strong>"</strong><strong>KNOW HOW THIS</strong>-<strong>"</strong></p><p> </p><p>"Okay, okay, we're gonna be fine." <em>No we aren't, we're absolutely fucked.</em> Stanley takes Az by the shoulders and stands the Gem straight. "This is fixable. We can just-"</p><p> </p><p><strong>"SHHHHHHH."</strong> Az brings a finger to the hazy Chesire grin on his face, hissing a long, drawn shushing sound as his other hand (large, clawed hands) almost smothers Stanley by the mouth. <strong>"I CAN HEAR YOU, STANLEY."</strong> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shit, right. The fucking "passenger".</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stanley sighs. "I'll get the damn blindfold."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>One blindfold and a formidable pair of construction-grade earmuffs later (thanks Soos), Az is happily parked on the armchair, willfully dead to the world.</p><p> </p><p>Stanley turns back to the kids. "Okay. <em>Now</em> you gremlins better tell me what the fuck you were on about before we had to tie your uncle down like the fucking <em>Exorcist</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Dipper had a crazy person dream about a flying nacho trying to possess your body and then the dream was real."</p><p> </p><p>Stanley looks at Dipper. "I don't speak Mabel, what's she talking about?"</p><p> </p><p>And Stanley really should be paying attention- really, he should- but then Dipper pulls <em>a fucking Journal, god damn bullshit Capital J Journal</em> out of his jacket pocket like the world's shittiest magic trick, and how the fuck is Stanley supposed to hear a thing when he sees his brother's handwriting flying up at him from every single page?</p><p> </p><p>When he can hear the twisted whispers rising? <strike>Just like the whispers of another, older Journal, whispers locked in a cabinet in the basement?</strike></p><p> </p><p>His brother is <em>right there</em>, grasped in a twelve year old's sweaty hands like a school notebook, and Stanley can't hear a god damn thing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone, unfortunately due to other art obligations i won't be able to continue making the ciphers. I will still be helping aenor out with other things but from now on the ciphers will be handled by a new person,  Jaybird314. Thanks for the fun cipher time.<br/>-Falrisesi</p><p>A new friend, a new cipher. My oh my.<br/>-Aenor</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Get On Your Knees And, Dig Up The Garden Won't You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You've got a game plan, a great plan, let's see how it goes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>It goes down rather like a heist movie. No, really. (A Diamond heist, if you will.)</p><p> </p><p>That kid Gideon takes out, what do ya know, <em>another fucking Journal</em>, and immediately finds a temporary possession spell with a frankly unsettling sort of quickness. As much as Stanley wants to have a heart attack at the literal mission of his life being fulfilled by two kids, at least it takes care of the possibility of Bill doing something wacky with Az's body while they try to fix things.</p><p> </p><p>This is a literal nightmare scenario, but Stanley has a game plan.</p><p> </p><p>Stanford's journals actually have a lot of stuff on this Bill Cipher guy, if a little... unhinged. The best way to kick him out was to never let him in at all, but if he did manage to get into someone's head, the one way to go about getting him out was to follow him in- fighting fire with fire, as it were.</p><p> </p><p>Stanley takes a moment to be grateful that Az answered all of Fiddleford's inane questions about himself, and Gems in general. Because knowing what he knows about Az, there's a minor problem with Stanford's otherwise solid advice- if they try to start a fight in a literal billion year old computer brain, they are going to die. And that would suck, obviously.</p><p> </p><p>So, Stanley's revised game plan- get in just long enough tell Az what's going on in his own head, and get out. He's reasonably certain the Gem can kick out Bill himself, once he's been made consciously aware of what the problem actually is. It's all just a matter of finding him in his own head.</p><p> </p><p>It's a good plan- it's a <em>great</em> plan. There's just one problem.</p><p> </p><p>"We're going with you!" Mabel shouts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>That.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, no."</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, Grunkle Stan!" Dipper pouts. "You're taking <em>Soos</em> with you!"</p><p> </p><p>"Soos is an adult." Stanley frowns at the twins. "This isn't some kind of fun monster adventure, kids, it's like brain surgery." He looks off at the wall. "But voodoo."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, but you're fighting a demon nacho!" Mabel pumps her fists. "You need all hands on deck!"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not making you fight a dream pyramid, Mabel."</p><p> </p><p>"You said it yourself, Stan. It's the dreamscape." Dipper raises a smug eyebrow. "We're only limited by our imaginations. The more minds you have on your side, the better."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God fucking damn it, I hate it when people are right.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Fffffffffffffffffffffffffine," Stanley finally grits out. "Get your fucking blankets at least, I'm not making us lie on the floor like a bunch of dead guys."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Jaybird has brought with them a new cipher. The tricky part of this one is that it's phonetic, and there certainly are some... <em>interesting</em> characters, so to speak. Almost like an alien language. <em>:)</em><br/><strong>Good luck.</strong><br/>-Aenor</p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Samael has said goodbye.</em><br/><em>Bow now to Hecate's cry.</em></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. God I Fucking Hate The Spirit Box I Hate Every Fucking Second Of It And I Hate The</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>fucking shitty horror movie static god-damn blaring in my ears BWEEE KKKKKKKTSCHSHTSHHSTSHTKTHSKTHS yeah i get it you hunt ghosts who gives a</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Ok." Stanley frowns down at the set-up. "Is the shitty ghost box working?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper turns it on for a brief moment, listening to the indecipherable static. "Yeah, spirit box is working. We should be able to communicate through this once we go down into the mindscape."</p><p> </p><p>"Um, how am I gonna talk back to ya?" Gideon shyly asks.</p><p> </p><p>"Talk right into our ears like a creep," Stanley deadpans. "And remember, do <em>not</em> use the possession spell until we're already in his head, otherwise we risk getting into <em>your</em> head instead."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay..."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, now." Fiddleford kneels down at Gideon's level. "We'll be alright. I'mma be right with ya the whole time."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Gideon holds his Journal a little tighter. "<em>Okay.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Alright." Stanley cracks his neck (God, he's getting old). "Kids, Soos, get over here. We're goin' in."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper moves to give the Journal to him, but Stanley practically shoves the book back into the kid's hands. "Nope. You've had it for longer than me. Whatever voodoo we're gonna be pulling out of it is gonna work better if it comes from you."</p><p> </p><p>(Stanley doesn't know if that's necessarily the responsible thing to say, but the hopeful sudden pride on the Dipper's anxious face makes it worth it anyway.)</p><p> </p><p>"Uh-" Dipper flips through the pages again. "So we all- we all put our hands on his head and, uh-" He takes a shuddering breath.</p><p> </p><p>"<em><span>Fidentus omnium</span>. <span>Magister mentium</span>. <span>Magnesium ad hominem</span>. <span>Magnum opus</span>. <span>Habeas corpus</span>. <span>Inceptus Nolanus overratus</span>.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>(The whisper of the journal rises, an echo behind the spoken words, and it almost sounds like <em>Stanford</em>, right alongside them with a vengeance in his voice.)</p><p> </p><p>"<em><span>Magister mentium</span>. <span>Magister MENTIUM MAGISTER MENTIUM <strong>MAGISTER  M E N T I U M</strong></span></em></p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>It feels less like waking up, and more like the scared courage to open your eyes after submerging yourself in water.</p><p> </p><p>It's... a house. An open, empty house on a beach, nestled in the long shadow of a sleeping, obsidian god.</p><p> </p><p>It is night and day under a cerise sky.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Hey There, Brother</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The epic quest to find the manager!</p><p>...wait, what-</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"So, uh..." Mabel twirls at her hair, "...what do we do now?"</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>...Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Stanley didn't actually think this far. A little bit because he knows jack shit about what he's doing, and a little bit because he was half sure he was just not going to even <em>make</em> it this far. (He should really start having Actual Plans when he does things. Sure, shit tends to work out for him a weirdly high amount of times, regardless of success or failure. But it would be nice to have slightly more <em>predictable</em> results than <em>golly gosh, at least we didn't die</em>.)</p><p> </p><p>"Uhhh..." <em>Great start, Stanley.</em> "We're trying to catch Az's attention, so we need to make some psychic noise." He waves his hands around. "Be annoying like the kids you are, I guess." He pauses, turning to Soos. "Not you, Soos. You're the best employee ever and I'm glad you're here."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel gasps at the prospect of adult-sanctioned annoyance like she'd found the Glitter Holy Grail. "Like the Karen of the supermarkets?"</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sweetie."</p><p> </p><p>Her hair blows solemnly in a sudden dramatic wind. "My time has come."</p><p> </p><p>"Real quick question?" Dipper raises his hand. "How are we gonna make enough noise? We're just four people."</p><p> </p><p>Stanley scoffs. "Word to the wise, kid, you're in the mind." With little more than a thought, he pulls a pile of fireworks into existence. "The only limits we got are us."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>It takes all of five minutes to generate a beach rave.</p><p> </p><p>Between Grunkle Stan's violent fireworks, Soos' rap music, and Mabel's endlessly generated characters, they are making... a lot of noise. (And if Dipper contributed to the light show with some BABBA aesthetic, no one had to know.)</p><p> </p><p>As freaky as the situation is, it's kind of fun.</p><p> </p><p>And then suddenly, the party stopped. One minute there, the next just... <em>gone.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Chased by the distant, belated sound of a violent explosion.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't wanna overreach," Soos says into the emptied landscape, "but I think we finally got his attention."</p><p> </p><p>"I saw a light by the cliffside!" Mabel points from behind her newly manifested opera goggles. "It must have come from over there!"</p><p> </p><p>It's a bit of a scramble- one can only run so fast on moist sand, after all.</p><p> </p><p>They see a picnic, by the rocks. It's a charming setup. The little blanket, the peaceful sunset, an absolutely perfect picnic basket.</p><p> </p><p>Such a shame, to see it ruined by the crater in the middle.</p><p> </p><p>"Dude," Soos whispers worriedly, "I think there's someone in there."</p><p> </p><p>As they finally come closer, they hear it- sad, lonely, quiet sobs, coming from the bottom of the unnatural pit. There's a sturdy, round faced young man just lying there, salt and sand all caught up in his nice clothes.</p><p> </p><p>"...Uncle Az?" Mabel hesitantly ask, like she almost wants the kid in front of them to be a stranger instead. "What's wrong?"</p><p> </p><p>Az's breath hitches. "<em>She said no</em>," his sing-song voice breaks.</p><p> </p><p>And little pieces of the scene fall into place. A guitar. A scattered bouquet of flowers. The cake, in the picnic basket, lovingly written with <em>Together Forever. </em>(The glow bracelet, clutched in his hand with all the preciousness of a wedding band.)</p><p> </p><p>"Oh," Mabel sounds with pity. "Oh <em>no.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Az falls back into silent tears, stuttered gasps skipping like a broken record.</p><p> </p><p>Grunkle Stan sighs. "Let's get moving."</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Mabel looks back down at the young Az. "We can't just <em>leave</em> him here!"</p><p> </p><p>"This ain't Az, sweetie," Stan tries to break gently. "It's just a memory. I think we should leave him alone and try again somewhere else."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"NO!"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The young Az bolts up and strangles his mouth in his hands, like he'd scared himself with his own voice. "<em>No</em>, <em>please</em>," he repeats, softer this time. "Don't... leave, I-"</p><p> </p><p>He wipes his tears on his sleeve, brushing the sand out of his dark curling hair as he stands. "I'm sorry. That was... rude. Did you need me?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Well, Hell's bells</em>," Stan mutters under his breath, "<em>y</em><em>ou've got some fight in you after all</em>." He punches at his chest, clearing his throat. "We've, uh, got an important message. Any chance you know who to take it to?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course!" And this young Az smiles- a wide, over-earnest thing pulling the squint of eyes shining with a desperate sort of friendliness. "I'm always here to help."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Tread Not Off The Beaten Path, Turn Not To Those Who Speak The Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Don't look back. You're being followed.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>At some point, Mabel had started holding Uncle Az's hand.</p><p> </p><p>She gets that this isn't really him- just a weird echo of his teen(?) self. But he looked so <em>sad</em>. Az was never <em>sad</em>, not like this.</p><p> </p><p>He's smiling, even now. He looks like he's half a second from crying, but with a smile slapped on so soft she can almost believe it. (It's kind of creepy.)</p><p> </p><p>Is he even still "Uncle Az"? He's pretty young in this memory. Maybe even younger than <em>her.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Hey, uh, Az?" His eye twitches when she says his name, even if the smile remains. "How old are you right now?"</p><p> </p><p>"16." He squints. "...I think. I'm not sure how to count it."</p><p> </p><p>Huh. So this memory doesn't remember much past itself, then.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, Mabel?" Dipper squints out at her, the buzzkill. "Maybe <em>don't</em> ask it so many questions? This memory doesn't look exactly, uh- <em>stable.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>She scoffs. "It's <em>fine</em>." She swings Az's hand back and forth, and he laughs, just a little. (#PowerOfMabel2k12). "Tell us about yourself, you dapper little man!"</p><p> </p><p>"Like- like what?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know, anything really." She puts a bit of a jump in her step. "What's your favorite fruit?"</p><p> </p><p>"I-" His face goes blank for a moment. "I..."</p><p> </p><p>They aren't on the beach anymore. It's a field, an endless scattered field of strawberries. Vine and moss and thorn overgrowing gargantuan shields and axes, fruits cut open like spilled blood against blades that stab the ground and loom like towers in the distance-</p><p> </p><p>And then it's gone. It's just sea and sand, all over again.</p><p> </p><p>"...Strawberries," he finally says. "I like strawberries."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel laughs, and laughs, and it's way too long to be any kind of appropriate, but for some reason she can't stop.</p><p> </p><p>(Oh god, she can't breathe.)</p><p> </p><p>Az looks down on her with an honest concern. "Are you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>I don't know, Uncle Az. Are <em>you?</em></strike>
</p><p> </p><p>"It's just funny," she sputters past her own nervousness. "I was a strawberry just this Summerween."</p><p> </p><p>Az turns the word around in his sing-song voice like a foreign concept. "Summer...ween? That sounds kind of fun," he says almost wistfully.</p><p> </p><p>"...Yeah." A bandaged gash itches under the arm of her sweater. "I guess it does."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. All Your Answers, Floating, In The Darkness Of The 8-Ball's Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Uncle Az's twenty questions</p><p>Uncle Az's twenty questions</p><p>Uncle Az's twenty questions</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Let it never be said that Dipper Pines was not at least a little bit of a hypocrite. Morals matter little in the pursuit of knowledge, after all. Even if Mabel's first questions were reckless, they were <em>telling</em>, and opened up the fact that Az, or at least this memory of him, was willing to talk.</p><p> </p><p>Sort of.</p><p> </p><p>Kind of.</p><p> </p><p>"So, Az..." Dipper tries to ask casually, "where you from?" (Stan scoffs at him from the corner of his eye. Fuck off, old man. Dipper is <em>not</em> being a hypocrite. Mabel is asking dumb questions. Dipper is asking <em>science</em> questions. Fuck off.)</p><p> </p><p>Az raises his eyebrows a little bit, but nothing too odd. "Delmarva area, Maryland coast."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He said he came from Mom's family. Mom said her family was from Pennsylvania.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Did you go to school there?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, no." Az laughs just a little too casually. "I wasn't really allowed to go to school, it wasn't safe. I was homeschooled."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Safe for you, or everyone else?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Any, uh- any siblings?"</p><p> </p><p>Roses suddenly spring out from under the concrete, gravel breaking to dust under violent black thorns.</p><p> </p><p>"...No," Az whispers. "Not really."</p><p> </p><p>And he just <em>keeps walking</em>, like he didn't even notice what happened. Like <em>no one is noticing what's happening.</em></p><p> </p><p>Like no one is noticing that they've passed the arcade three different times now, the way that there's a different game suddenly activated every <em>time</em> they pass.</p><p> </p><p>They walk through a garage the seeming size of a warehouse. Wooden beams flicker in and out of existence, while an overabundance of paintings shift and warp with purple faces.</p><p> </p><p>The way things suddenly seem too big, too doll-like. Too small, too distant. The way the donut shop blurs five feet away from them, the way the water tower a mile away looms in horrifying definition, every scrape of rust eternally present.</p><p> </p><p>A minibus van sits in the parking lot of a car wash. It's trunk doors are open and there is nothing inside. Not even an interior. There is nothing inside the van.</p><p> </p><p>There is nothing inside the van.</p><p>There is nothing inside the van</p><p>There is nothing inside the van</p><p> </p><p>Dipper claws at his hair. What the fuck. <em>What the fuck.</em></p><p> </p><p>He feels the ghost of the Journal, still clutched in his hands, still whispering into his ears in the waking world. <em>Who are you? <span class="u">What are you?</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Are you alright?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Dipper jerks away from the whisper that hums right into his skull, whirling around to see...</p><p> </p><p>"...Uncle Az?"</p><p> </p><p>Soos turns around at the whisper that apparently wasn't as quiet as Dipper wanted it to be. "What's that, dude?" </p><p> </p><p>"I just saw Uncle Az."</p><p> </p><p>"Of course you did, Dip-Dop!" Mabel waves the hand of the young Az guiding them, who still hasn't pulled away from her. "He's been right here the whole time!"</p><p> </p><p>"No!" Dipper pulls down at his hat. "I mean <em>our</em> Az! He's right here!"</p><p> </p><p>"Right... where, dude?"</p><p> </p><p>"He's-"</p><p> </p><p>...gone. There's no one behind Dipper, not for an entire tiny town's infinite miles.</p><p> </p><p>Grunkle Stan crosses his arms, a weird amount of concern on his face. "I think the mindscape's starting to make you a little paranoid, kid."</p><p> </p><p>"I-" <em>I know what I saw I know what I saw I- </em>"...Okay." Dipper kicks at the ground. "I guess- I guess I'll just keep to the back from now on."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I'm sorry they didn't believe you.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Dipper keeps his head down, keeps walking, keeps ignoring the familiar voice that doesn't exist, and it goes on anyway, a song stuck in his head that never goes away.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I guess it's just us...</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A broad, impossible hand ghosts the side of his neck and down to his shoulder, the weight that does not exist, unsettlingly familiar.</p><p> </p><p>He looks up to a friendly, freckled face, and wide, dark eyes, the shy, soft tilt of smile.</p><p> </p><p><strong>I think I'm a little lost,</strong> <strong>buddy</strong><strong>,</strong> whispers the sing-song voice of Uncle Az, running right through Dipper's bones. <strong>Could you help me out?</strong></p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>shown in the comics, steven canonically wasn't <em>allowed</em> to go to school. he did it once, and was barred from school after about a week of attendance.</p><p>he actually performed very well academically in public school, it's just his presence (due to being a gem that attracted corrupted gems) was too dangerous for the other kids, so he was formally barred from attending school.</p><p>-</p><p>For new readers- a reminder that it is accepted and encouraged to share completed ciphers in the comments! We love feedback. While the ciphers aren't mandatory for the story, they often contain foreshadowing and other such Spicey Poems.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Birch And Thorn And Rose And Pine. The Eyes, The Lies, Within The Pines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Of course you can talk</p><p> </p><p>kid</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Out of all the possible What The Actual Fuck moments of Dipper's summer, seeing his uncle sneak around in his own mind may just take the cake. Yes, even over the whole <em>thing</em> with the Trickster last night. Shocking, I know.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. <em>Fuck.</em> That really was only last night. It feels, simultaneously, five minutes ago and also forever. (Was that tree there before? God, this dreamscape shit is messing with his brain.)</p><p> </p><p>But that's just how it is sometimes. Dipper is right in the back of the group, right in the back of Az's head, and now there's some freaky memory ghost Az that may or may not only exist in the back of <em>Dipper's </em>head. In some kind of... trickster, voodoo, nightmare Maryland ocean town. Maybe. Who even fucking knows anymore, man.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Seriously, I, uh-</strong> Az taps his fingers in a rolling motion on Dipper's shoulder. <strong>What's goin' on, y'all? There was, </strong>Az narrows his eyes with thought, <strong>there was something wrong with Stanley? I don't remember what happened after that.</strong></p><p> </p><p>"Well, I-"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper stops. Az, the <em>real, waking</em>Az, had spent his last coherent words warning not to tell him anything because Bill could see <em>through</em> him.</p><p> </p><p>"We're just-" Dipper picks at his shirt. "-doing diagnostic stuff. You clocked out."</p><p> </p><p><strong>I did?</strong> Az just barely frowns, and for a moment he looks like a kicked puppy. <strong>I'm sorry. That must have been really scary for you guys.</strong></p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I- it kind of was."</p><p> </p><p>He looks back at Soos, Mabel, and Stan, who still <em>haven't</em><em> noticed</em> the extra Az right behind them. Said Az follows his gaze to stare after them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Seems like something's on your mind.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Great. Even <em>brain</em> Az acts all dad and concerned.</p><p> </p><p>"It's nothing, Uncle Az, it's just- ugh! People <em>never</em> take me seriously! Whenever <em>I</em> see something first, I'm just a dumb, paranoid kid! I'm-" Dipper balls up his fists. "I'M FUCKING SICK OF IT!"</p><p> </p><p>He slaps his hand over his mouth, but it's too late. His shout already echoes through the old pine forest.</p><p> </p><p>Forest.</p><p> </p><p>...He could have sworn he was just in the town a few seconds ago.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Oh dear. I think you've moved us.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"Wha-"</p><p> </p><p>Pines. Nothing but pines, nothing but pines nothing but pines</p><p> </p><p>Stop. Stop stop- "-I was- I <em>didn't,</em> I don't know how this happened, I-" can't breathe, <em>I can't breathe-</em></p><p> </p><p><strong>Hey, hey. It's okay.</strong> Az leans down just a bit, hands held up. <strong>It's not your fault you got us lost.</strong></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Your fault, your fault, your fault, lost.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I just- I feel so confused-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>It's alright if you don't know what you're doing.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"-and, and-" Dipper starts to pace along the wet grass. "-I <em>wanted</em> this, I wanted to go and <em>do something real</em>, but it's all so <em>much!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>It's okay. People get in over their head all the time.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"I <em>know</em>, I just..." Dipper's voice dies a little. "...I just thought I'd be <em>better.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>You're still a kid. No one ever really knows when they're ready. That's okay.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"I-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You don't know what you're doing.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You're in over your head.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I just-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You weren't ready.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You're just a kid.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I'm-"</p><p> </p><p>Fuck, fuck, why is he crying, why can't he stop crying, <em>fuck fuck fuck.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Oh, woah. What's wrong, kid?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"I don't-" A <strike>pathetic</strike> hitched gasp chokes him out of his words. "-I don't know, I-"</p><p> </p><p><strong>Hey, it's alright. You're alright.</strong> Az opens up his arms a little, just enough to wrap Dipper into one of his weirdly solid hugs. <strong>You've been through alot, huh?</strong></p><p> </p><p>"I just wanted to help," Dipper mumbles into his uncle's shoulder. "<em>I just wanted to help.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strong>Oh...</strong> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The hand on the back of his head stills, trailing down.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-Oh, <em>Angel...- </em></strong>His uncle's voice trills sweetly, the hand on Dipper's throat suddenly snagging with the curl of blunted claws, -<strong>HOW LONG WILL YOU DRAG THIS <em>OUT-</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>Dipper can't pull away. He can't run, he can't think, <em>he can't breathe.</em></p><p> </p><p>He can only see, out of the slowly tunneling corner of his eye, a smile pointed unnaturally, childishly wide- twinned, broad fangs rendered eerie moonlight against the long and twisted shadow of the pines.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Angel, Angel, Rhymes With Mabel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Little girls who believe in fables.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Accessibility warning for vision or reading impaired: this chapter contains minor passages with exotic formatting. These are deliberate stylistic choices and are not intended to be visually/verbally coherent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Dipper finally manages to pull away, when <strike>Az</strike> Bill lets him go. "Don't touch me, creep!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-NOW, NOW, ANGEL. THAT'S NO LANGUAGE FOR A BRIGHT YOUNG LADY LIKE YOURSELF-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"F-f-fuck off, psycho!" <strike><em>Angel, Angel, rhymes with Mabel.</em></strike> "You don't get to talk to me like that!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-WHY NOT, SWEETHEART. AREN'T I YOUR DEAR DARLING UNCLE-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"Drop the act, Bill, we both know it's you." He chews at his shirt in disgust. "I can't believe I was getting all feelings with <em>you!</em> Fucking gross, man!"</p><p> </p><p>Bill laughs, a nasal, chittering noise rendered entirely alien through Az's voice. <strong>-BUT IT'S JUST SO FUNNY TO WATCH THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE, <em>SWEETIE</em>. YOU HUMAN MEATBAGS ARE SO <em>DELICATE</em> ABOUT YOUR BRAIN ASSOCIATIONS-</strong></p><p> </p><p>"What do you want from me?" Dipper presses. "If I'm such a useless kid, why are you wasting time creeping on me?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-WELL AREN'T <em>YOU</em> SENSITIVE-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"You're using my uncle as a sock puppet," Dipper glares in what he hopes is a Professional And Thoroughly Unimpressed way. "I'm not exactly <em>enthused</em> here."</p><p> </p><p>Bill just squints with the force of its smile <strike>the way Az did.</strike> <strong>-IT'S FUNNY HOW YOU CALL HIM YOUR UNCLE-</strong></p><p> </p><p>"I mean- he's not really our <em>uncle</em>, he's actually one of our cousins, I think? It's just easier to call him <em>uncle</em> 'cuz he's older."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-YOU <em>THINK?</em> WOW, YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"<em>You're the idiot. </em>Like I'm gonna listen to a word that comes out of <em>your</em> mouth."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-YOU DON'T KNOW WHO HE IS, OR WHERE HE'S FROM, OR HOW HE'S RELATED TO YOU! HAH, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIS <em>NAME! </em>BETWEEN THE TWO OF US, THE IDIOT HERE'S DEFENITELY YOU-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Don't listen to it, don't listen to it-</em> "And what would <em>you</em> know, you gentrified corn chip?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-DON'T YOU REMEMBER? I KNOW <em>LOTS</em> OF THINGS. I COULD TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR SWEET, SILLY <em>UNCLE AZ-</em></strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The unnatural curve of Bill's smile distorts even more.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-DON'T SAY YOU'RE NOT JUST A <em>LITTLE</em> CURIOUS-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"I-" <em>Fuck, he's right.</em> And maybe it shows on his face, the way Bill thinks it can walk closer.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-TELL YOU WHAT, KID. I'M BORED! HOW'S ABOUT WE MAKE A LITTLE DEAL. I CAN TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANNA KNOW- I'LL EVEN LEAVE THIS DREAMSCAPE FOR GOOD. ALL <em>YOU</em> HAVE TO DO IS K̴̭͝Ê̷̫E̸̛̥͠ͅP̷̗͇̐ ̴̢Ỳ̵̠̤O̵̟̾ͅÙ̵͕̭͌Ŗ̴͗̕ ̷̢̈̾M̷̨̝̔̅O̷̘̠͛̈́Ȕ̴͔T̶͔̈́ͅH̸̗̑ ̴͎̆S̴̢̄H̵͕̲̉͠U̵̺̩̾̚T̶͇̚͝ AFTERWARDS-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It's... surprisingly lenient. And kind of childish. Then again, there is this weirdly bratty quality to all of Bill's actions so far. Maybe <em>bored kid</em> really is the right kind of word for it.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't want to know <em>everything</em>. He doesn't want to rip out Az's secrets to the whole world. He just wants to <em>know</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Bill holds out Az's freckled hand.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-SO, IT'S A D̸̋͜Ȇ̴̝̭̬̗͚̌̅͆A̶̪̓̄̅̂͌̌́̓̒͗̚̚Ḻ̸̡̹͉̙̈́͑̊, THEN?-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Just one question. <em>Just one answer</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He reaches toward a clawed hand as it sparks with blue fire, and</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">"What is this."</span> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Bill draws back its hand, but not before a dark shape <em>glitches</em> out of the treeline, tiredly but unyieldingly hoisting Bill up by the neck of the Az it's controlling.</p><p> </p><p>It's... <em>Az</em>, and yet not. It wears Az's clothes, it has his dark, curling hair, it has his dark eyes, and yet... <em>and yet.</em></p><p> </p><p>Where there would have been a body there is <em>nothing</em>. Just a flat black void, Az's freckles dusting it like stars.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-WHOOPS-</strong> Bill laughs uneasily under the shadow's hold. <strong>-MOMMA'S HOME-</strong></p><p> </p><p><span class="u"><strong>"You should not be here."</strong></span> Dark eyes scatter with color as they look back to Dipper. <strong>"<span class="u">And neither should you, little one. Explain yourself."</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>-<strong>HEY, Y'KNOW-</strong> </p><p> </p><p>The shadow cuts away whatever's left of Bill's voice with a stronger grip than before. <span class="u"><strong>"You do not speak. State your purpose, child."</strong></span></p><p> </p><p>"I-I-I-I-" Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's dead. Either Bill's gonna kill him or this Az will. <em>Fuck, fuck, <strong>fuck.</strong></em></p><p> </p><p>This Az is little more than a blank mask- only the eyes are truly discernable on his face. But the slant of them softens, just a little. <strong><span class="u">"</span><span class="u">I have no reason to hurt you. Tell me what I need, and I'll send you on your way."</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>"My-my name is-" <em>Angel, Angel, rhymes with Mabel.</em> "M-Mason Pines. I'm your nephew. We- your family, we, uh- a thing got into your head, so we followed it here."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">"Why did you do that, Mason?"</span> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>...He called him <em>Mason.</em> The exact same way the <em>real</em> Az did. Dipper never realized how much he actually appreciated that, until now.</p><p> </p><p>"To send along the message of what happened. We couldn't tell you from the outside, so we tried to reach you on the inside." He looks shakily at Bill, still wearing a false image of Az's body. "That <em>d-d-d-dickhead</em> tried to snatch your body."</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>"And the others. Where are they?"</strong> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know. They're still somewhere else in your head." He pulls down on his hat. "They were with another you! Teen-looking, had a black jacket and a-"</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"><strong>"-Picnic basket,"</strong></span> Az finishes. <strong><span class="u">"I found them."</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>He swipes his free hand in a flippant motion, like a cat batting at a toy, and Stanley, Soos, and Mabel fall into existence.</p><p> </p><p>"Ow! What the fuuuuuuuuuuu-" Stan trails off into shock as he takes in this new Az, scrambling back with a newly manifested spiked bat. "Is that what I think it is?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>"The aberrance has been found. You will be returned to your rightful place while this matter is resolved."</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>The dreamscape fades and falls away, like the end of an old reel of film, fading to grain.</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"><strong>"Mason?"</strong></span> </p><p> </p><p>He looks up. Something shifts in this Az's face- he couldn't see it, but just for a moment, he could almost <em>hear</em> a smile in that echoing, sing-song voice, with that last rattle it sends in his skull.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>"Thank you. Now wake up. Goodbye,"</strong> </span>
</p><p> </p><p><em>-Mason. Mason? </em>"Mason?"</p><p> </p><p>There's a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake, and he opens his eyes to the mercifully brown-eyed concern of Az's own.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you alright?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper nudges Az's hand off his shoulder. (<em>His nails look like claws. Had they always looked like that?</em> ) "I'm- I'm okay. Are <em>you</em> okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"I-" One of Az's eyes flutters wildly for a moment. "-I think so. Why? Did something happen? Did I- did I <em>do</em> something?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, it's-" He looks around the room, empty except for the two of them. "<em>Where's everyone else?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"In the kitchen getting some brunch. You were the last to wake up." A subtle frown creeps onto Az's face. <strike>So different from the smiles Bill had painted on him.</strike> "Is something wrong?"</p><p> </p><p>"No." There's a sting on the back of Dipper's neck- when he moves his hand across it, he feels the grooves of hairline claw marks. "It's fine."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Take A Break,</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Run away with us for the summer, we can go upstate.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Thirty years of searching, and two kids did it in less than a month.</p><p> </p><p>It kind of makes Stanley want to cry.</p><p> </p><p>But <em>whatever</em>. Whatever. What matters is that they have all the Journals, together, and now that the kids know he's not dumb about magic bullshit, it's not weird if he asks to borrow the Journals as inspiration for the Shack, just for a night.</p><p> </p><p>Several scans later, they have everything they need- with some editing from Az because <em>apparently</em> Stanford did entire fucking sections in <em>invisible ink</em>, and whatdya know, Gems can see the UV spectrum. (Jesus fucking Christ. That was a night.)</p><p> </p><p>Fucking fucking <em>fuck fuck fuck fuck <strong>fuck</strong></em></p><p> </p><p>"Stanley, we should probably take a break."</p><p> </p><p>Stanley shoots back awake from his sleeping perch in the portal's control room. "What, no! We're almost done here!"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, yes." Az looks back up at the portal itself. "But we won't be able to <em>do</em> much more then wait."</p><p> </p><p>"Itta do us some good to be steppin' away from all this fer a little while!" Fiddleford cheerfully messes around with a Rubik's cube. "I haven't left this basement in two days!"</p><p> </p><p>"I have to <em>be there</em>," Stanley insists. "I have to be there when it happens."</p><p> </p><p>"You <em>will</em> be," Az reassures. "We've got time. So why don't you step away for just a little while?" His head tilts with an odd sort of understanding. "You haven't seen him in thirty years. Let's not have your first impression look so stressed out, alright?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck. Ya got me there.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stanley leans back in his chair with an exaggerated groan. "<em>Fine</em>. It's about time for my yearly petty revenge roadtrip anyway."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No ciphers for this arc! The gang is taking a break from the mystery of Gravity Falls, so no puzzles will be following them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Road Dogs! (That Is Us! We Are The Road Dogs!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Time to let these road dogs bark!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>The next morning, there is an RV in front of the Mystery Shack. Somehow. It's a little busted looking but it's <em>big</em>, and Dipper can see Soos and Az loading up things on the top of it.</p><p> </p><p><em>No</em>, Stanley had insisted, they were not in fact running from the law. They were going on a roadtrip.</p><p> </p><p>...Dipper does not know why this surprises him, on account of the fact that him and Mabel had been woken up by Az silently barging into their room, some vaguely unhinged joy in his smile, shouting <em>who wants to go on a ROADTRIP?</em></p><p> </p><p>And now they're going on a roadtrip. Mmm. Joy.</p><p> </p><p>It's not so bad. It'll be nice to get out of Gravity Falls for a little bit. See the sights! Meet new people! Spend time with the gang!</p><p> </p><p>...Spend time with Uncle Az.</p><p> </p><p>Az, who drops down from the roof of the RV, just a little too graceful, falling just a little too slow.</p><p> </p><p>Az, who <em>lifts</em> the RV when it's stuck in a pit of dirt and then goes on like it never happened.</p><p> </p><p>Az, who is always awake by the time everyone else is asleep. </p><p> </p><p>Az, who is always there when they wake.</p><p> </p><p>Az, who disappears into the forest after breakfast, a forest of gnomes and crystals and unkind things, and comes back an hour later, like he had never once been in danger.</p><p> </p><p>Az, with the sing-song voice.</p><p> </p><p>Az, with the dark, <em>tunneled</em> eyes.</p><p> </p><p>(Az, with the nails that look like claws.)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>Az, and the ghost of a dream in an old forest of pines, and the smile of broad white fangs. Az and unnatural laughter and golden eyes, Az and the hand that strangled a demon right in front of his eyes.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>For long hours. In a small space. In remote places. Alone.</p><p> </p><p>Az who has never hurt him. Az who has only ever known and called him by his <em>name.</em></p><p> </p><p>So why does Dipper feel, all of the sudden, that his heart is rattling against a cage?</p><p> </p><p>Why does he meet his uncle's eyes, and feel, for just a second, like he's about to die?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Soft And Comfy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You learn things on the road.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Mabel shakes at Az's shoulder. "Uncle Az?"</p><p> </p><p>He snaps back into wakefulness with a start. "Whassit..."</p><p> </p><p>"You wanna play punch buggy with us?" He squints down at her, not really responding, and Mabel frowns. "Are you okay? You look kind of... worn out."</p><p> </p><p>He tiredly pats her head. "M'fine. Car rides just..." his head dips down, "...tire me <em>outtttttt...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>With that very elegant response, his head gently crashes against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Stanley knows there's some joke about Gems being basically alien cats, but frankly this is ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>"It's so soft," Az's song wavers as he hugs the World's Biggest Ball Of Yarn™. "<em>So soft...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Does this mean you're gonna stop me from taking it apart?" Stanley sarcastically wonders.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, not at all," Az smiles. "It's so soft I want to <strong>unravel it.</strong>"</p><p> </p><p>"Well thankin' goodness!" Fiddleford shouts from behind the RV. "I was worryin' ya might've gotten geared to demolish my yarn pullin' robot!"</p><p> </p><p>"Your what-"</p><p> </p><p>"HEY GIDEON, COME ON OVER HERE WITH YER BABY HANDS! I NEED YOU T' BE ADJUSTIN' A WIRE!"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>They go through the road slower than they really could be. Making every possible stop, staring at every little thing. Maybe Grunkle Stan is exercising a rare sense of indulgence for once. (Or maybe he's throwing off the tracks of any angry tourist trap owners that might be chasing them.) Either way, it's such a full day that night falls before Dipper's ever ready for it.</p><p> </p><p>And he can't sleep.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>Can't sleep knowing what could find him in his dreams. Knowing what might find him when he wakes.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>So he steps outside of the suspiciously spacious RV that's been his home for the past day, sits down on the stairs, and looks up at the stars.</p><p> </p><p>And Az is there. Maybe he'd been there the whole time.</p><p> </p><p>He is sitting against the RV. The lantern has been left on beside him, and it throws his whole face into shadow against the night. His face is nothing but two unblinking mirrors of light and the moonlight gleam of teeth cast just too sharp.</p><p> </p><p>"You're scared," Az whispers into the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper flinches back (just a little). "Of-of what? <em>You?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Yes."</p><p> </p><p>Az doesn't sound angry, or upset, or even really that surprised. Just sort of... resigned.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen, Uncle Az," Dipper hears himself say, hand running over the ghost of the claw marks still on his neck, "it's not that you've, like- <em>done anything wrong</em>, or you really did something all that scary, it's just..."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>I don't even know if we're family.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>"...things have been a little... <em>weird</em> for me ever since that whole Summerween stuff..."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>I can't look at you without seeing someone who might have killed me if it could.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>"-and-and being in your mind, I realized I kind of don't know you at all."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>I'm starting to wonder if you're really even human.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>"And you've been nice, really you have, but..."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>I don't even know your name.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>"...how can I trust you when I don't even know <em>who you are?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>There's a shocked intensity on Az's face, and Dipper wonders if maybe he's made a mistake. (If he's finally pushed too far, because that's what he does, he pokes and prods until something bites him back.)</p><p> </p><p>"I guess you're right," Az shakily sighs.</p><p> </p><p>Huh.</p><p> </p><p>Az burrows his knuckles along his large brows. "You're right," he repeats. "I've kind of kept myself in the dark from you kids and... it makes sense, that you wouldn't trust that forever. I don't... I don't <em>mean</em> to be like that, it's just..." A tired laugh. "Well, I'm just not used to talking about myself, y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>"I..."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God, Dipper. Do you <strong>ever</strong> shut up?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"...Yeah," Dipper finally answers, "I guess I do."</p><p> </p><p>"I, uh..." Az taps his (clawed) hands against his knee for a moment, some boyish nervousness warring on his face. "How about this? Ask me anything, anything at all, and I'll give you an honest answer. A real one. I won't get mad or anything, I'll just give you as much truth as I can."</p><p> </p><p><em>Trust no one, trust no one. </em>"Why?"</p><p> </p><p>"Because we're family, Mason," Az says softly. "Whatever my secrets, I'd rather we trust eachother. You should never have to be afraid of your family." <em>You shouldn't have to be afraid of me.</em></p><p> </p><p>And whatever else Az may have said- whatever lie, whatever truth- for some reason, Dipper trusts that more than anything else. Because just for a second, there had been something in that sing-song voice that understood him all too well.</p><p> </p><p>"Anything. Anything at all?"</p><p> </p><p>"I said I would."</p><p> </p><p>"Even if it's stupid? Even if it's mean?"</p><p> </p><p>"If that's what you need."</p><p> </p><p>A silence falls, and Dipper finally looks back at unblinking eyes, shining under lantern light.</p><p> </p><p>"What are you?"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>greg mentioned in canon he used to go on drives to calm steven down or help him fall asleep.</p><p>so i put that motors mimic the resonance of gemsong purrs. being inside moving vehicles make steven (and connor) sleepy because it feels like his mother.</p><p>this isn't a problem when they drive because vehicle turbulence is minimal from a driver's seat.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. The Answer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nothing but the truth.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Stars, Mason," Az smiles wearily, "you really cut down to the bedrock, huh. But," he chuffs out with a loose breath, "I said I would, didn't I?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, you did." Dipper crosses his arms with more bravado than he feels. "Pay up."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright." Az gives a long, slow blink. "But there's some things I gotta say before we... rip out the band-aid, as it were."</p><p> </p><p>"Are you stalling?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not! I'm not." Az laughs just a little nervously. "I just don't want you to run away screaming without context, is all."</p><p> </p><p>"Ffffffffine," Dipper groans. "Gimme the bits."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, uh- I want you to know Stanley already <em>knows</em> all of this. He asked me to keep this kinda low because he wanted things to be normal for you guys."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper frowns. "Are you gonna get in trouble for telling me this?"</p><p> </p><p>"If I have to choose between things feeling safe and things feeling normal, I'd rather you be safe." Something wry enters the wariness of his smile. "Stanley can't do anything to me, anyway. Just... please promise to hear me out before you start screaming?"</p><p> </p><p><em>Well now I'm fucking terrified.</em> "...Okay."</p><p> </p><p>And Az stands up, his face tilted toward the stars, and he falls. No, no. <em>He</em> doesn't fall. The <em>image</em> of him does.</p><p> </p><p>The very air around him shivers with the distortion of light. Dark hair twisting along itself and practically <em>burning</em> away to rosy curls, the unnatural color of freckles put to irrevocably sharp relief against skin now porcelain pink. White claws flexing along the rolling, curling motion of soft hands that still kept the red geometric render of flowers over top of them.</p><p> </p><p>And there are fangs, fangs that <em>flex</em> inside Az's mouth as he falls back into place.</p><p> </p><p>There's a newly empty space along Az's belt, opening to the gem openly rested on his belly.</p><p> </p><p>And Dipper can really see it now- he sees the light scatter pink along dark eyes and there are black, tunneled <em>diamonds</em> there.</p><p> </p><p>"You need to breathe, Mason," Asteria Diamond gently scolds.</p><p> </p><p>"Azzzzsteria Diamond, oh <em>fuck</em>-"</p><p> </p><p>"Language, Mason-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>-oh fuck, you're a Gem</em>," Dipper gasps, "<em>Diamond, you're Asteria Diamond, what the fuck.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah..." Asteria Diamond looks off to the side. "...there it is."</p><p> </p><p>"You're... an alien." Dipper scratches along his hat. "<em>Jesus, I was way off</em>."</p><p> </p><p>The Diamond frowns just slightly. "What did you think I was?"</p><p> </p><p>"I was stuck between werewolf or some kind fae creature," Dipper answers seriously. "This explains... a hell of a lot, really, but- why were you pretending to be human? Why were you pretending to be our uncle?"</p><p> </p><p>"I really <em>am</em> your uncle, if you can believe it. Your mom has a cousin named Gregory DeMayo. Well- he <em>used</em> to be DeMayo, he got a different name later on. I'm his son."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper squints a little skeptically. A lot skeptically. "His... son."</p><p> </p><p>"It's a pretty wild story, but the long and short of it was that I was basically a human kid for a good decade or so- like, a <em>really</em> human kid, I've got the bones to prove it and everything. He was my dad, I was his son. That's just how it is."</p><p> </p><p>"Why reach out to <em>us</em>, though? Why now?"</p><p> </p><p>"New York." The Diamond runs his claws over the back of his head. "That Chitauri invasion really chucked me and my Gems into the human media spotlight. If people were gonna dig, they might have found you guys and you wouldn't have even known why. So I went down the DeMayo family tree, tracked down everyone I hadn't already met. I met your parents, they told me about Stanley."</p><p> </p><p>The Diamond stuffs his hands into his pockets.</p><p> </p><p>"Stanley needed a hand, and with you kids coming down for the summer... I decided to stay. Get to know the family." Asteria looks away for a moment. "I didn't- I didn't want to hide it, but Stanley asked me to. Didn't want me hanging over your heads. And..." The song of his voice grows quiet. "It was... it was nice to be human, just for a little while. It's always <em>Your Radiance</em> this and <em>Asteria Diamond</em> that. I scare people real bad just by <em>existing</em><em>, </em>and I... it was nice to just be your uncle Az. Just for a little while."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper should be afraid. He should be batshit scared out of his fucking mind.</p><p> </p><p>But he's not.</p><p> </p><p>Asteria Diamond, playing human, and his idea of <em>human</em> had been... a good person. An awkward, spooky person, but a <em>good one</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"You can tell the others," the Gem sighs. "There's no... there's no point in hiding it now, y'know? It was never going to last forever."</p><p> </p><p>Something in that last stretch of song sounded... so sad.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I-" Dipper's shoes idly scuff the ground. "Do I still call you Uncle Az?"</p><p> </p><p>"You don't have to, anymore," Az tiredly reassures, "but if that's what you want."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Dipper lets out a long breath. "Okay."</p><p> </p><p>He turns back up to the stairs of the RV.</p><p> </p><p>"Goodnight, Az. Thanks for... talking to me."</p><p> </p><p>A song as brittle as diamond trails after him as he goes back inside.</p><p> </p><p>"Goodnight, Mason."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chadwick Aaron Boseman, the mantle of king did suit you well. </p><p>Bast and Sekhmet embrace you. Land now with grace in that endless green veld, and run forever.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Pink Princess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mabel wonders.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Mabel's reaction had not been anything grand. It had not been shock, or disbelief, or fear.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I pet you?"</p><p> </p><p>And on God, Az actually <em>chirps</em> with surprise, his posture jumping up to ramrod straight perfection. "W-why?"</p><p> </p><p>"You look very soft," she matter-of-factly states. "Like a big fluffy couch. I think it would feel very nice!" She pops her bubblegum in her mouth. "Also I want to say I've pet an alien. <em>Pretty please?</em> Just a <em>little</em> bit."</p><p> </p><p>"Mabel," Dipper hisses quietly, "you can't just ask to <em>pet</em> someone, that is <em>inappropriate</em>-"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay."</p><p> </p><p><em>What.</em> "What?"</p><p> </p><p>Az shyly holds out his hand as he rests his head on the table and closes his eyes. "Just don't be rough, alright? I can still feel everything."</p><p> </p><p>And apparently Mabel has no shame, because that's all the permission she needs.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn't exactly start slow. At first it had been gently thumbed circles along the tattoos of his hand, but then it quickly devolves into squishing at Az's palms, giggling with soft wonder at his claws.</p><p> </p><p>"Mabel, why. He said you could pet him, not randomly squeeze him like a stress ball."</p><p> </p><p>"He has <em>beans</em>," Mabel whispers. "<em>His hands have little beans.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Well now Dipper has no shame. "No fucking way, gimme that."</p><p> </p><p>And as Dipper pokes at Az's hands, it turns out that <em>yes</em>, Az kind of does have beans, kind of. There's a soft sort of give to his palms, an odd malleability of his hands all the way down to the broad fingers. Dipper presses down, watching scarily large claws flex out like switchblades and <em>holy fuck, Gems feel like velvet.</em></p><p> </p><p>A hand that could lift up the very RV they're sitting in, and it's softer than a baby. What the fuck.</p><p> </p><p>And then Mabel goes for Az's beanie.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, maybe we shouldn't push it, this is already weird enough."</p><p> </p><p>But she's already taken his hat, with only a minimal noise of sleepy confusion from the Gem himself. "We have to, Dipper," she insists. "<em>For science.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper sighs. "For science," he mutters.</p><p> </p><p>Az's pink hair is dense, curling, and softer than a cat's. Not even <em>Dad's</em> cat was this soft.</p><p> </p><p>And Duck, for all her chunky glory, <em>never</em> had a purr this bone deep.</p><p> </p><p>"A pretty kitty," Mabel coos.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mabel this is not a pretty kitty this is our uncle.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel simply gently shakes Az's head, rewarded with the soft trill peeking out of his sleepy, purring song. "<em>A pretty kitty.</em>"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>when mabel found out, she looked up all sorts of things about gems, and heard that petting is a gesture of love.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Stanley Runs Over An Owl, Send Tweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The cat is out of the bag and there is an opportunity to learn from it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Things didn't really change all that much, knowing now what Az was. The Diamond had only ever acted like himself, with the only main difference being what skin he wore while he did it.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that, and some other things.</p><p> </p><p>Like the constant low-level song that permeated his voice now. A dizzying collage of chiptunes, pianos, guitars, and orchestral drones, no longer bothering to hide the way they wormed into a person's mind. It was... weird. Not a <em>bad</em> weird, but still. It's hard to be frightened when anyone can just <em>hear</em> how content he is on a normal basis.</p><p> </p><p>The, uh- petting thing, that was new. Mabel was now fully dedicated to petting the oversized alien cat thing that was their uncle, and Az, literal walking god, was oddly okay with being randomly attacked by various affectionate hands at unpredictable intervals. The purrs would absolutely shake the RV if it wasn't already rickety enough.</p><p> </p><p>And the magic stuff. He'd idly take things out of his gem, stitch things back together with kisses, casually toss any one of the girls in the air if they asked.</p><p> </p><p>(He most definitely was not using the special shoes when they went to the upside down house. He was just walking along the ceiling in his own boots.)</p><p> </p><p>He was alot more willing to <em>answer</em> questions, too. Or maybe he'd been that way all along, and was just waiting for someone to ask.</p><p> </p><p>"Is there anything <em>else</em> we should know?" Dipper tests the waters with.</p><p> </p><p>"I was the cat."</p><p> </p><p>"The Summerween cat? That was you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Stanley asked me to look out for you," Az explained in-between bites of sandwich. "Magic got strong that night, thought it might've gotten weird. And he was right."</p><p> </p><p>"You licked my hand."</p><p> </p><p>Az just takes another bite of sandwich.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Uncle Az, you licked my hand, what the <strong>fuck</strong>.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"My ichor has healing powers," Az says, like that explains anything. "Blood, sweat, tears- I don't really have any of that, it's all ichor."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My uncle is an alien who doesn't have blood. Okay.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>OKAY.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Is there anything <em>else</em> I should know?"</p><p> </p><p>"You and your sister both have magic powers," Az smiles completely seriously. "You're a necromancer, actually."</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, I'M A-"</p><p> </p><p>There's an audible clunking noise as the RV swerves.</p><p> </p><p>"Everything alright, Stanley?" Az calls out to the front.</p><p> </p><p>"Fucking owl cracked its neck on the window," Stan grumbles. "Fuckin' ran me into a ditch for good measure."</p><p> </p><p>Another, longer silence.</p><p> </p><p>"Well!" Az stands up. "Time for your first practical lesson! Lesson One: <strong>How Not To Anger The Dead After Bringing About Their Demise</strong>-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>az teaching dipper about magic: i have every idea of what i'm doing but no idea how to translate it to human practice. anyway, blood is a valid ink-</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Whatever Works, Whatever Jives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Imagine a dead body.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Fortunately, it was already night, so there was no need to wait for a practical demonstration, as it were. Dipper gets to learn some things.</p><p> </p><p>Number one- moonlight is important for stuff like necromancy.</p><p> </p><p>Number two- Dipper is way less squeamish about dead things than he thought he would be. <em>Huh. </em>(Az wasn't... <em>squeamish</em>, per se, around the remains of a crumpled owl, but there was a sad, detached bewilderment in his expression. Gemkind had no word for something like death until they had met humans. Death, as humans knew it, would forever seem <em>unnatural</em> for them.)</p><p> </p><p>Number three- anime was right and geometry is important. Az drew a small but perfect circle with a single claw in the dirt, just enough to enclose the body. And then he turned to Dipper with that smile and sweet trill of song, asking <em>could I borrow some of your blood?</em></p><p> </p><p>"Just enough to ink in the circle," Az had explained.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, why aren't <em>you</em> doing this first? Why am I doing it?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm a Gem, Mason," Az gently clarified. "I physically can't perform human necromancy."</p><p> </p><p>"Then how do you even know this stuff?" Dipper suspiciously wonders.</p><p> </p><p>"I learned it..." a glazed look crosses over Az's dark eyes for a moment. "...a few centuries ago, I think. I was curious of the way human magical practice crossed over with my own powers. I can understand the theory, but Gems don't have enough <em>physicality</em> to really perform it- and even then, Diamond's ichor is too charged to be used the way blood is."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I physically can't perform <span class="u">human</span> necromancy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"But you can perform <em>some</em> version of it," Dipper concludes. "What does the end result look like for you?"</p><p> </p><p>"It doesn't look like yours would."</p><p> </p><p>"It'd still be nice to have <em>some</em> idea of what I'm walking into."</p><p> </p><p>Az hums to himself. "Fair enough." With that, he turns his head deeper into the forest with a brief, sharp bird-whistle flying out of his song.</p><p> </p><p>And then a <em>literal pink lion</em> walks out of the forest. A pink lion with tea-green eyes, flowers in its mane, and a tasseled saddle cloth embroidered with Diamonds' colors.</p><p> </p><p>(Were lions <em>supposed</em> to be as large as horses? Dipper can't remember.)</p><p> </p><p>"This is Lion." Az lovingly smushes the creature's head as it nuzzles against him. "In human terms, he's more of a familiar than a true example of necromancy, but there's some similarities you can look out for. A standard ritual can't actually <em>repair</em> the body like this unless you combine with other disciplines, but the body will undergo minor structural and coloration changes to reflect its intended function and the caster themself."</p><p> </p><p>Lion's tail thumps lazily on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>"In terms of a pure and standard ritual, the body won't have much ability or intelligence outside of what it was capable of in life. It will also draw directly on you to sustain itself, if you don't give it an independent energy source or time limit. You can also cast magic <em>through</em> it, if you wanted, but that's not something you should be trying so early." Az tilts his head as he looks back at Dipper. "Really, the most important thing is self-control. You need to know what you want and <em>how</em> you want it, or the construct will go too feral to manage."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh boy, that's a lot.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"So, uh..." Dipper nervously clears his throat. "What do we do if this goes... wrong?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's more likely to just not work at all then actually go horribly wrong." Az laughs briefly. "It sounds stupid, but try not to think about it. Worrying about how wrong things could get increases the likelihood things <em>will</em> go out of control."</p><p> </p><p>He nods with a conceding note, however.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll be putting a <em>super</em> tiny bit of ichor into your blood as a stabilizing agent. I can keep the resulting construct from mutating too much and it'll give me a foothold to directly control it if it gets feral. There's nothing that really <em>can</em> go wrong that can't be fixed or managed. So all you need to worry about is trying your best."</p><p> </p><p>Okay. <em>Okay.</em></p><p> </p><p>One freshly healed pinky later (thanks, Grunkle Stan's knife), the weird mix is inked into the circle. It is <em>not</em> a blood smoothie. It doesn't matter what Mabel says. <em>It's just not.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Touch your hand to the body and separate the soul, so that it may go free.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It didn't really feel like anything. More like... an absence. As though something had simply left, without fanfare.</p><p> </p><p>And then he'd wondered for half a second what color a resurrected owl of his would be.</p><p> </p><p>A brief burst of blue fire burns out the inked circle of blood, and Dipper yanks his hand back. </p><p> </p><p>It's a fire that sparks and flares and <em>sinks</em> into the shaking, shuffling shadow of dead, rattling bones...</p><p> </p><p>...leaving behind a very small, very undead owl with a blue glow in its large black eyes. A tiny blue heart pulses with life behind fragile ribs not quite covered in feathers. It takes in the last of the magical fire and yawns. A gaping mouth unveils tiny daggered teeth in the far back of the skull.</p><p> </p><p>"Ooooh," Mabel coos, "it's so cute!" She waves it over with a gentle hand. "Come here, sweet baby."</p><p> </p><p>The owl turns its head to her, ruffles its feathers with a warbling chirp, and flies over to Dipper's hat.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel gasps. "<em>Betrayal.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper awkwardly scratches his hair. The owl awkwardly scratches itself.</p><p> </p><p>He squints. The owl squints back.</p><p> </p><p>Hmm. This may be a problem.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay!" Az boulders on. "Lesson Two: <strong>How To Care For Accidentally Acquired Familiars</strong>-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>steven has quite alot of experience with creating and dealing with magical constructs.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. By Jove!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What's in a name, my friend?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Okay, I <em>got it!</em> " Dipper slams his notebook shut. (He's still chewing on his pen, though. Nerd.)</p><p> </p><p>"What do you got, Dip-Dop?" Mabel mumbles past Lion's infinitely fluffy hair as she pets his ears.</p><p> </p><p>"I finally found the perfect name for my familiar!"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel groans, falling into Lion's massive body. "Really? You've been agonizing over this for <em>hours! </em>It's just a <em>name</em>, bro-bro! Why you gotta act so cray-cray over it?"</p><p> </p><p>"This isn't like some kind of pet, Mabel. I <em>made</em> him. With <em>dark magic.</em> I need to name him with the proper respect he deserves."</p><p> </p><p>The owl chews on one of his discarded pens.</p><p> </p><p>"Respect he will grow into. Eventually."</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Az gently encourages, "let's hear it."</p><p> </p><p>As always, Dipper blanks out. "Uh..." He flips through his notebook again. "<em>Uhhh...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Give us the name!" Mabel chants as she pounds her fist on the table. "<em>The name!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"<em>The name! </em>" Candy and Grenda chant after her. "<em>The name!</em> <em>The name!</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, the name," Gideon politely whispers, "what she said."</p><p> </p><p>"Uhhh... <em>Jovis Idonea Virgilio</em><em>! </em>" Dipper blurts out.</p><p> </p><p>"Say what now?" Mabel eloquently responds.</p><p> </p><p>"It is..." Candy hesitantly critiques, "...very mouthful name."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>The suitable and flourishing father of help</em>," Az clarifies. "It's a pretty fitting name for a familiar. But," he concedes Candy's point, "it <em>is</em> a bit of a mouthful for the little owl. I'd suggest you give him a nickname that's easy for him to respond to for day-to-day stuff."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper squints with too much thought as he sucks in a long breath, tenting his hands to his face. "Jives."</p><p> </p><p>A brief silence follows.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that makes sense."</p><p>"Pretty cute."</p><p>"Sounds easy enough."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," Mabel can't help but offer, "it sure <em>jives</em>."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper's glance of betrayal makes everything worth it.</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Az smiles. "No." He points at the owl. "<em>That's</em> Jives."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel falls back into snorts of laughter.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>I will harvest your spinal cord with a rusty spoon while you sleep</em>," Dipper mutters menacingly.</p><p> </p><p>"Bold of you to assume I <em>have</em> a harvestable spinal cord, Mason."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Allow Me To Slip Into Something More Friendly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fiddleford tries to make friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"You know what?" Stanley glances over to Fiddleford as he drives. "You need some practice talking to people."</p><p> </p><p>"Y'all've been pretty good praticin', yourselves," Fiddleford waves off. "And 'sides, well..." He trails off with a nervous laugh. "Ain't much people wanna even poke <em>Old Man McGucket</em> with a ten-foot pole, these days."</p><p> </p><p>"Fair enough." Stanley perks up again soon enough, though. "But we're on the road, right now, y'know? Nobody here knows about 'Old Man McGucket'. You're just plain old Fiddleford."</p><p> </p><p>Something hesitant and almost hopeful crosses Fiddleford's face. "I suppose you've got yerself a point there, Pines."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"I am suddenly filled with a great existential terror!" Fiddleford brightly declares the moment he steps out of the RV. "Could I mayhaps sit this one out?"</p><p> </p><p>"Fidds, buddy," Stanley slaps a hand to his face, "you can't keep using <em>existential terror</em> as a word for anxiety. It's not the end of the world, it's just your brain fuckin' with ya."</p><p> </p><p>"Ya got me there!" He looks out into the foggy forest. "This here Mystery Mountain is givin' me the shivers, though, I'll tell ya that."</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, you'll be fine! It's not like there's any <em>spider people</em> out here like those crappy brochures like to harp on about. There's just people!" Stanley points out some older lady manning the ticket booth. "There's a people right now!"</p><p> </p><p>"Uh..." Fiddleford squints suspiciously at the lady's dreamcatcher earrings. "I don't know about this, Stanley. I'm gettin' those heebie-jeebies just tryin' t' <em>look</em> where she's at."</p><p> </p><p>"That's what we're here to work on!" Stanley claps him on the shoulder, sending him forward. "Remember- confidence, charisma, uuhh... some other word that starts with 'C'. Go get 'em, champ!"</p><p> </p><p>Fiddleford stammers his way through something vaguely resembling the English language, and the lady simply laughs.</p><p> </p><p>"You're so funny," she drawls out with a valley accent. "Folk call me Darlene. What's your name, handsome?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, uh-" He twitches with his hands, suddenly yearning for the Rubik's cube he left in the RV. "F-Fiddleford Hadron Mc-McGucket."</p><p> </p><p>"So <em>unique</em>." She leans forward in her seat. "Now, I may just the ticket lady around these parts, but you can can call me Darlene, sweetheart."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>fiddleford, a seer with anxiety: is this an omen or a panic attack</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. Free Bones For The Bone Market</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fiddleford's adventure with Spider Related Omens.</p><p>Or at least the aftermath of it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Fiddleford eventually circles back to the group while they were taking a tour through the forest, looking kind of dusty.</p><p> </p><p>"There's our professional friend!" Stan calls out. "How'd it go with Darlene?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Fiddleford smiles, "first she lured me into a cave, and then she done transmogrified into an arachnimorph, and then she trussed me up so that she could eat me alive! Fortunately she left to do something else, which did givin' me enough time t' eat m'way through the cobwebs!"</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>Az frowns. "I'm sorry, a what-"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Darlene- or at least the creature that played at being her- skitters back with a hiss as they encroach upon her territory.</p><p> </p><p>"Fuckin' hell's bells," Stan mutters as he takes in the bodies, "you really have just been eating people down here."</p><p> </p><p>"This is majorly impractical," Az mutters. "And unsustainable. You live in a giant forest. Eat the animals! Raise small livestock! There's a hundred better ways to go about this than hunting down members of a group protective intelligent species. <em>Songs above.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>He noticeably makes no mention of the actual <em>morality</em> of eating humans. <em>That's</em> going in the notebook later. Dipper will remember this.</p><p> </p><p>And possibly have a nightmare or two down the road <em>hey are those free bones.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Kid, why are you taking bones from the cave," Stan flatly asks.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper drops the femurs he'd been absentmindedly collecting. "No reason." Him and Jives both give an awkward cough. </p><p> </p><p>Jives spits out a knuckle. And maybe (maybe) a severed human eye.</p><p> </p><p>You can't prove anything. </p><p> </p><p>What are you, a cop?</p><p> </p><p>Stan groans, and looks back at the spider...thing...lady. "We're taking these bones as payment for trying to kill Fiddleford."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" Darlene spits. "Those are <em>mine-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Az levels an absolute <em>stone mask</em> of a smile in her direction- diamonds, fangs, and all- and Darlene wisely decides not to argue it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dipper: and that's the story of why i have over 29 human bones under my bed<br/>wendy:<br/>wendy: dude what the fuck-</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Update: I May Or May Not Be In A Cult</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Follow up: I may or may not be leader of said cult.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Fiddleford suddenly looks up from his Go Fish cards. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em>Oh sweet Jesus Christ, I forgot about the cult.</em>"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm sorry, the WHAT-"</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Why I Have Half A Mind,</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's rather quite simple.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>There is one simple way to destroy a cult, when you can- you simply take away what it worships.</p><p> </p><p>The Society Of The Blind Eye worships a little steampunk-vibed ray gun with the simple power to remove memories.</p><p> </p><p>Insidious and paranoia inducing, to be sure. But their entire operation relies on this one (1) rickety device- take that away and they've got nothing. <em>All</em> of their tactics rely on the fact that their actions don't have proper consequences. Without that...</p><p> </p><p>...well.</p><p> </p><p>Without that, they're just a bunch of coward grown men in red blankets.</p><p> </p><p>So when one Fiddleford Hadron McGucket marches right into their headquarters and takes his gun right off its pedestal, there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" A one eyed man protests. "You can't take that from us!"</p><p> </p><p>The man grabs McGucket's wrist, and the old man's eyes narrow from behind green glasses.</p><p> </p><p>"Ivan Wexler, what have you become?" Fiddleford whispers.</p><p> </p><p>The one-eyed man draws back like he's been burned.</p><p> </p><p>"Founder," Ivan's voice trembles. "After all this time, you've returned to us-"</p><p> </p><p>"To find you all in disgrace!" Fiddleford waves his long arms around at the ramshackle catacomb of a headquarters. "I done made this damn group to help people forget <em>traumatic memories</em>, and y'all done gone trigger happy to put this town in some godforsaken..." Fiddleford sputters for a moment, "-wild blanket o' ignorance!"</p><p> </p><p>He starts tinkering with the settings of the gun.</p><p> </p><p>"You ain't learned a damn thing from my mistakes while I been gone," he mutters darkly. "That's the problem, innit? You keep on forgettin', you ain't ever gonna learn."</p><p> </p><p>There's a real fear settling, now. One member tries to leave...</p><p> </p><p>...but they're blocked by the sudden group taking up the exit.</p><p> </p><p>It's Bud Gleeful that speaks up first.</p><p> </p><p>"What- what are y'all gonna do to us? Erase <em>our</em> memories?" He laughs nervously. "You can't erase us all. You wouldn't have the heart." A stern frown crosses his face. "You never have."</p><p> </p><p>Something sad and contemplative enters Fiddleford's eyes. "You're right. I don't have the heart." </p><p> </p><p>The red-robed group looks hopeful for a moment in the face of that sadness, before they see the steel that replaces it.</p><p> </p><p>An old man's wiry frame shakes with rage.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>But I have <span class="u">half a mind</span> to take what's mine.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>Three large frames come out of the darkness, and there's no escaping the way they tie everyone together.</p><p> </p><p>Every member of the eye is forcibly blinded by the hoods being tugged back over their heads, but not before they see their own founder finally put the settings to two words,</p><p> </p><p>[MEMORY GUN]</p><p> </p><p>and take fire.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. These Kids Have Gone Off The Deep End!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One hearty squint later.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>When they dare to turn on a single light downstairs in the hallway, Az is just... <em>there.</em> Sitting at the living room table, still in utter darkness, his eyes have a pink, animal sort of shine, unblinking as always.</p><p> </p><p>He's sipping at a mug, making unflinching eye contact with both of them.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Hey there... Az,</em>" Dipper starts off awkwardly. He stuffs the magic crystal's flashlight behind his back. "How's it goin'... haha, don't mind us, we're just... y'know-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>We're breaking into the public pool with wire cutters to save a trapped mermaid so we can set him free to the sea!</em> " Mabel blurts out.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God damn it, Mabel.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Az stares at them with a bemused, borderline apathy, as though Mabel's non-sequitur was the most normal thing he'd heard all week. "Alright."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper squints suspiciously. "You're just letting us go."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, yes? I don't see why not?" Heavy pink brows go down with a confused frown. "Is that odd?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Alien with limited concept of human social norms. Of fucking course he doesn't know about curfews.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"...No," Dipper lies, like a liar.</p><p> </p><p>"Be back in an hour, you two. You want some hot chocolate when you get back?"</p><p> </p><p>"Make mine spicy! With marshmallows!" Mabel insists.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper sighs. "I'll take cinnamon in mine."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short chapter, so no cipher. Ciphers will return for the next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Mister Sixbones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Incomplete penetrance- Penetrance, in genetics, refers to the carrying and expression of genes. In incomplete or reduced penetrance, some individuals will not display a phenotypic trait even though they carry the theoretically necessary genotype for it.</p><p>or</p><p>Stan Pines has six fingers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Sweet heaven to Betsy," Fiddleford mutters as he looks up at the portal. "The thing's really been goin' at it, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>Az looks up at the swirling, violent mass of light. "It started up with the gravitational anomalies five hours ago, but it started taking things into it about... twelve hours ago? It's starting to get a little wild."</p><p> </p><p>"Which means it's almost time," Stanley realizes with a wild smile. "It's almost done!"</p><p> </p><p>Fiddleford jumps back with the beeping of his laptop. "Step back, e'rybody, we gotta another sucker comin' in!"</p><p> </p><p>Stanley scrambles back. "Shit, shit, shit, shit-"</p><p> </p><p>A loose pipe rips from the walls and barrels into his back, tossing him into the air with unsteady disgrace.</p><p> </p><p>"Woah woah woah<em> woah</em>-"</p><p> </p><p>But before he can really even fall upwards, a wave of pink bubbly nonsense practically slams him back against the ground with paradoxical gentleness until the power surge passes.</p><p> </p><p>When things (sort of) calm down again, Az wastes no seconds coming out of the control room. "Are you alright?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine!" Stanley punches a cough out of his chest only to feel a sudden burn in his hand. "Ow, fuck."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh, fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oh. That looks bad. That looks... not good for his hands, <em>ooooooooh shit he's gonna need one hell of a bandaid for that fucker-</em></p><p> </p><p>And then Az just seals the wound off with a kiss, like it never happened. That fucked up mess really just stitches itself together with a crawling, burning sensation- like if spiders decided to gently caress his skin, in a disconcertingly yet successfully comforting way. Creepy.</p><p> </p><p>So it was fine. <em>It was fine.</em></p><p> </p><p>And then Stanley goes the fuck to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>And then he wakes up, rubs his eyes, and finds Two Entire Fingers that he definitely did not have the day before.</p><p> </p><p>"OH SWEET MOTHER OF-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>stanley pines: (has incomplete genetic penetrance for polydactyly)<br/>asteria diamond's Helpful healing powers: ohOHOHO! Missing Genetics?? You Are Missing Body Parts?? Don't Worry Friend, <em>I Can Fix It,</em></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Soos' Secret Task</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Soos has a very important job.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Soos! Can you come 'ere a sec?" Mr. Pines suddenly shouts.</p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing, Mr. Pines!" When Soos sidles over, there's an oddly serious expression on his boss' face. "Something wrong, <em>jefe? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"I want you to take the kids to have a nice day out," the man gruffly orders. "I'll pay for anything you guys do, just keep 'em away from the Shack until I call you back."</p><p> </p><p>"Sweet! Paid to hang out with the little dudes!" <em>Wait. </em>"Why?"</p><p> </p><p>"We're dealing with the hole puncher today, I'll tell you when it's over. Shit might get weird, so I don't want the kids running around where they can get hurt. Keep 'em in town and don't freak out if the gravity starts getting a little fucked."</p><p> </p><p>"Wait, is that why things were floating in the air last night-"</p><p> </p><p>"OKAY HAVE A GREAT DAY, TAKE PICTURES OR WHATEVER IT IS YOU YOUNG PEOPLE DO, GOODBYE!"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>The hole puncher. Of course Soos knows about the hole puncher- he's always known about it. He's known about it since he had to fix the CCTV that one time and he saw Mr. Pines punch a code into the vending machine and it <em>opened</em> to somewhere.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn't actually <em>seen</em> the thing until a few days ago, when Az had squinted at him with alien eyes and asked him to follow them to the basement.</p><p> </p><p>And it was a <em>really huge hole puncher.</em> Big enough to punch a hole in the <em>universe</em>. A looking glass into another world- every world, all at once, all to find one man in the world's biggest haystack.</p><p> </p><p>Let it never be said that Stanley Filbrick Pines was anything less than a family man.</p><p> </p><p>So Soos will play his part. It won't even be hard. He loves these kids.</p><p> </p><p>Let it never be said that <em>Jesus Ramirez</em> was anything less than a family man.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0054"><h2>54. I'm Gonna Turn This Car Around!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>C'mon, Soos. Be a bro.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"So, Soos."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper shuffles back up in his seat. "What the fuck was that?"</p><p> </p><p>"What was what, dude?"</p><p> </p><p>"We <em>just</em> floated in the air for a solid ten seconds there."</p><p> </p><p>"Uhh..." Soos looks into his rearview mirrors. "Wild, huh. Don't know what was up with that."</p><p> </p><p>"Liar!" Mabel mock yells. "You let go of the gas pedal as soon as you saw it coming! You <em>knew</em> it was coming!"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know what they're doing, dudes," Soos nervously deflects, "I just work here, man."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, so <em>Stan's</em> doing something, huh?" Dipper pounces on the slip-up.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh... uhhh..."</p><p> </p><p>"C'mon, Soos," Mabel half begs. "Tell us what's going on. Don't treat us like little kids."</p><p> </p><p>"Mmmm..." Soos leans his head on his steering wheel. "Okay, okay!" he finally caves.</p><p> </p><p>The twins pump their fists in the air.</p><p> </p><p>"The other dudes are working on something in the basement, and they're trying to deal with it <em>today</em>," Soos hesitantly explains. "Mr. Pines asked me to keep you guys out of the house so they didn't have to worry about you while they were working."</p><p> </p><p>"They?"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel looks confused. "McGucket's in on this? And <em>Az?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"What is this, alien stuff?" Dipper asks.</p><p> </p><p>"I wasn't even supposed to say <em>any</em> of this, dudes. Look, I- it's gonna be over soon, and Mr. Pines said he'd explain everything after it's all done. It's not anything bad, but it's still scary stuff and he didn't want you getting caught in it, okay? He really cares about you dudes, y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>Dipper leans back in his seat with a groan. "<em>I guess. </em>It just kind of sucks to have to wait around for-"</p><p> </p><p>A very obviously government car slips by.</p><p> </p><p>Then another. And another.</p><p> </p><p>All in the direction of the Mystery Shack.</p><p> </p><p>"We're going back to the Shack," Mabel flatly declares.</p><p> </p><p>Soos already puts his foot back on the gas pedal. "You don't even need to tell me, dudes."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0055"><h2>55. Lockdown 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Barricade the house! They're coming!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Despite it all, they got there before the agents did. It helps to know all the shortcuts to the woods. (And that a certain undead owl can fly overhead, checking for better paths.)</p><p> </p><p>"I'll keep the gov guys away," Soos offers, "you guys go down to the basement and warn them. But come <em>right back</em>, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah-"</p><p> </p><p>"I mean it dudes." There's an uncharacteristic soberness in the mechanic's voice as he punches in some secret code to the vending machine, <em>and it opens to a staircase.</em> "You guys come right back and hunker down in the elevator until Jives gives you the all clear, alright?"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay," Mabel acquiesces. "But I'm stationing Waddles with you. You don't get to deal with this alone."</p><p> </p><p>"Fair enough."</p><p> </p><p>And Soos watches them disappear down the stairs, just in time to hear the last of the cars surround the shack, and he smiles.</p><p> </p><p>"Afternoon, dudes! Welcome to the Mystery Shack! How can I help?"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Knowing that your uncle is probably a criminal is one thing.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing that your uncle, who is probably a criminal, is <em>also</em> probably a wizard is another.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing that your wizard crime uncle has a giant fucking machine hidden in the basement of his cabin in the woods?</p><p> </p><p>...There are some things that stretch beyond belief.</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel calls out to a dimly lit control room. "What's going on?"</p><p> </p><p>Stan turns around with a wild, panicked look that only take a whole new tilt as his eyes register them.</p><p> </p><p>"Kids? <em>What are you <span class="u">DOING</span> down here?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"There's government guys surrounding the Shack!" Dipper half yells. "What are <em>you</em> doing down here?"</p><p> </p><p>Stan raises up his hands, and for a split second moment they almost have too many fingers. "Listen, I know this looks kinda bad, but if you just let me explain-"</p><p> </p><p>"WE GOT ANOTHER ONE INCOMIN'!" Fiddleford suddenly yells. "BRACE!"</p><p> </p><p>Stan looks back at the machine. "Shit, get down!"</p><p> </p><p>He grabs the two of them, diving under the desk of the control panel as everything goes weightless again.</p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck," Dipper whispers, "<em>What the fuck what the fuck <span class="u">what the fuck</span>-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"We're gonna be okay!" Stan insists. "Hey, hey, look at me!"</p><p> </p><p>Shaking eyes, green as pine, lift to meet old, determined eyes, dark as the sea. There's a sort of subtle ring around Stan's pupils, that Dipper notices only now. Pale and electric.</p><p> </p><p>The same electric ring shining out from the machine just a few dozen feet away. A prismatic cacophony of thunderous light rattling the fulcrum of reality and fit to shatter it.</p><p> </p><p>"You listen to me, kid," Stan's rough voice barks. "We're gonna be fine! I've been doin' some pretty scary shit down here, I'm not gonna lie, and you kinda came down at a bad time. But everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!" He briefly ticks his head in the direction of the violent machine. "Even this! So... could you just <em>trust me</em> on this one, just this once?"</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan..." Dipper whispers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>10</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>9</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>8</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Trust no one trust no one trust no one-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>7</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>6</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"...I trust you."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>5</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>4</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>3</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>2</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Dipper and Mabel close their eyes and brace.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>1̵̡̫̱̲͕̣͔̪̱͓̦̭̠͋͛̂͋̐̆͛̅̃̌͑͜͝</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>And a man steps out.</strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0056"><h2>56. The Bavarian Fire Drill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><em>No one with their sleeves rolled up who walks purposefully with a piece of paper held conspicuously in their hand is ever challenged.</em><br/>-Terry Prachet, <em>Moving Pictures</em></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Of all the possible first impressions he could have gotten from a long-lost brother, he would have hoped something a little less violent than a crazy science gun to the face. (Maybe not as science as it looks. Stanley does <em>not</em> like the voodoo vibe comin' of that thing.)</p><p> </p><p>"Stanford," Fiddleford gently starts with passively raised hands, "you might wanna put the gun down, friend."</p><p> </p><p>Surprise, surprise! The gun does <em>not</em> go down.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen," Stanley dares to step closer, "that's just Fidds. Your old college buddy, remember? I know you had..." <em>Two separate psychotic breaks between the both of you</em>, "...a bit of a falling out or some shit, but he's really cleaned up his act since you've been gone. And- and you remember <em>me</em>, right?" Hesitation isn't a good look, but it creeps into his smile all the same. "It's me, Stanley-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Try again</em>," a taut voice whispers. "Stanley Pines doesn't have six fingers."</p><p> </p><p>"Funny story, that," Stanley nervously laughs, "Turns out I kinda <em>did- </em>HEY, HEY, HEY!" He backs off from the advancing weapon. "Sweet fucking Moses, Stan, get off my dick! It's me!"</p><p> </p><p>There's a long, long pause.</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know..." Stanford says with the kind of tiny voice Stanley hadn't heard since they were kids, "...they always assumed you would have called me <em>Ford</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, well-" Stanley crosses his arms. "-jokes on whoever the fuck <em>they</em> are, thinking I'd miss out on the greatest pun I'd been born with-" There's an obvious shake in his brother's hands all the sudden. "Woah, you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"It really-" an unsteady laugh suddenly flies from Stanford's mouth. "<em>It really is you</em>," his voice shakes.</p><p> </p><p>There's some kind of live wire in his brother's voice, and Stanley doesn't have enough time to think about whether it's a good kind or a bad kind before Stanford nearly drops onto the basement floor right then and there, crashing into Stanley instead.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright." Stanley awkwardly pats at his brother's back. "Keep it together. You can't thank me if you have a heart attack in the basement."</p><p> </p><p>Stanford scoffs tiredly. "As if I'd thank you for-"</p><p> </p><p>"Grunkle Stan," Mabel suddenly asks from the entrance, "what's going on?"</p><p> </p><p>"And who is <em>that</em>?" Dipper halfway interrogates.</p><p> </p><p>Stanford staggers away. "Stan," he falters, "you didn't tell me there were children down here." He frowns at the blurry pink shape in the control room. "And some kind of-"</p><p> </p><p>He freezes.</p><p> </p><p>Az awkwardly clicks to himself a few times. "Hey there."</p><p> </p><p>Stanford's trigger finger twitches.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't shoot the weird alien cat, Stanford," Stanley flatly admonishes.</p><p> </p><p>"But-"</p><p> </p><p>"I know, I know. It's weird. I'll explain later."</p><p> </p><p>"We still done gotta be dealin' with the suits upstairs," Fiddleford reminds them.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh shit, I actually forgot about the gov guys," Stanley whispers under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>Promptly broken by Ford's panicked shout.</p><p> </p><p>"WHAT DO YOU <em>MEAN</em>, THE GOVERNMENT-"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Agent Sam Jeff Trigger has seen some weird shit in his lifetime. That's just how it is when you work for SHIELD. But when you see weird things almost constantly, you get desensitized. <em>Complacent</em>. You start to think that nothing will ever surprise you anymore.</p><p> </p><p>...And then Asteria Diamond walked out of the vending machine.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there Az," the repairman waves, as if this was entirely normal.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello there, agents," the Diamond's song rings clear. "Is there some sort of problem?"</p><p> </p><p>Everyone stands there dumbfounded for a moment before Power clears his throat, presenting his badge. "We're here to investigate the source of the gravitational anomalies that have been occurring these last few days."</p><p> </p><p>"In a fucking tourist trap?" Stan Pines laughs. "What are you," he barks sarcastically, "a cop?"</p><p> </p><p>Power's eyes briefly flicker down to his badge.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah shit, I guess you are cops," Pines mutters.</p><p> </p><p>"We have reason to believe this establishment is harboring crucial information concerning the incident-"</p><p> </p><p>"It was just a weird fuckin' earthquake, Jesus! What makes you think there's anything weird around <em>here?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"...Asteria Diamond is standing right there," Trigger flatly points out.</p><p> </p><p>Pines throws a sheet from seemingly out of nowhere and over the Diamond's head. "No, he's not."</p><p> </p><p>"Mr. Pines, please remove the sheet," Powers orders.</p><p> </p><p>Pines removes the sheet, revealing absolute emptiness.</p><p> </p><p>A few agents absentmindedly clap.</p><p> </p><p>"Nothin' to see here, folks!" Pines determinedly barks.</p><p> </p><p>"You <em>clearly</em> just-"</p><p> </p><p>"NOTHIN' TO SEE HERE."</p><p> </p><p>A voice of song whispers behind them. "The matter has been dealt with," Asteria Diamond reassures, "and is none of your concern."</p><p> </p><p>"It is our concern when it may be a matter of national conspiracy-"</p><p> </p><p><strong>"Your agency can speak of conspiracy when your Director Fury decides to be honest about his Project INSIGHT."</strong> Their voice is soft- soft in the way the snow of an impending avalanche is soft, the way a blanket that strangles a child is soft. Soft and heavy and <em>inevitable</em>. "Until then, you stay out of my business, alright?"</p><p> </p><p>A brief silence follows.</p><p> </p><p>"Let's pack it up," Powers sighs.</p><p> </p><p>Trigger stutters. "But-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>We can't win this one</em>," Powers whispers. "<em>Let's take what we have and go.</em>" Powers turns back to the Diamond. "Our apologies for disturbing you, Your Radiance. We'll leave immediately."</p><p> </p><p>A sudden pressure he hadn't even known was there lifts from Trigger's head. He hears a few agents audibly gasp for air behind him.</p><p> </p><p>"Of course," Trigger doesn't quite stutter, "We'll leave."</p><p> </p><p>Asteria Diamond and the Pines smile with varying degrees of not-so-good intent as they watch everyone leave, and Power tries not to stagger as he exits the house. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Stanford's anger in canon is due to the fact that he was in the middle of fighting Bill (in fact close to killing him), and it wore out relatively quickly once he was given an opportunity to calm down. So a Stanford brought out earlier would be more disoriented than pissed off.</p><p>other SHIELD staff won't stop joking that "sam" is an acronym that stands for "secret agent man". this joke/"rumor" cannot be shaken despite best efforts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0057"><h2>57. Contemplations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>July 1 2012</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>After thirty long years, I have finally returned to you. Rho, Sigma, Tau- forgive me. I should never separated you from each other. Nonetheless- to you, my Journals, I am grateful for our distance. Your foothold in this world has tethered me to this reality, and my sanity. Despite of my misguided efforts to bury you, you found new holders, and their voices have been a steady shield against the living nightmare of my existence these last decades.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My brother's voice, in spite of everything, has saved me. Whatever else may have happened between us, this cannot be denied.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...How do you live with a man who has chosen you over the entire universe?</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>July 2</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>F has apparently returned to our house in my absence. He seems to be doing well at the present, but... I could not have predicted the state of mind he'd fallen to for so many years. I know in my heart that I am to blame, having driven him to this. He insists that the choices he made were entirely his own, and yet. <span class="u">And yet.</span></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In his rediscovery of memory, I find pieces missing from my own. He makes mention of disturbing events, of which I have no recollection. Cipher's influence in my life stretches further than I initially expected. Concerning, but no matter. He cannot reach me again.</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>THE MYSTERY SHACK???</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>What the devil has Lee done to my house!!!</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>My oldest brother, S, appears to have acquired grandchildren. Interesting.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They are pieces of the Zodiac, that much is clear. Their powers are already beginning to manifest, and they've acquired familiars, intentionally or otherwise.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I do not know how to feel about this. Do I feel comforted that they are my family, or horrified that such prophecy could hinge on children? <strike>They're so, so young.</strike></em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Lee's familiar is a goat. I don't know why I expected anything else. Good lord.</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Her Radiance, Asteria Diamond, Son Of The Rose, Song Of Mercy, End Of Eras, Suneater</strong>
</p><p>
  <em> <span class="u">I SUPPOSE EVERYONE ASSUMED I ALREADY KNEW ABOUT OUR ALIEN OVERLORDS!!!</span> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Gems! I've heard of such a species, in my travels of the multiverse, but to have their very gods here at the dinner table is a bit MUCH!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This unlucky family of ours is tangled to cosmic forces beyond my wildest imaginings. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>The children call xem "Uncle Az". Unbelievable. </em> <em>Xe seems friendly enough (certainly able to tolerate the blatant lack of deference the household shows xem, as well as my own questioning), but the eyes are... entirely alien. It is not a human mind that lurks there. I must be thankful to Lee for what he's done for me, but... I hope he has not indebted himself somehow, in the process. Further investigation is required.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I predict I won't be getting much sleep tonight.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>your reminder to read <em>all</em> books in FADIAMT- including <em>Rauðskinna</em></p><p>please give comments and feedback on the ciphers when you solve them! we want to be able to gauge how well they function and if we can augment the difficulty.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0058"><h2>58. Is That So Strange?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The all new porch gang.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Uncle Az is Asteria Diamond, this is true. But regardless of whatever borderline status he might possess, he's still a <em>person</em>. Dipper knows that, intellectually. But for some reason, the idea that Az has an actual life is straight fucking bizarre.</p><p> </p><p>It's just... so, <em>so</em> weird to find out he has a wife and kids.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Baba! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah!" Az falls back at the sudden impact of a small child leaping right into his chest. "You've gone and killed me."</p><p> </p><p>"No," The child giggles, patting at Az's face.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, yes you did," Az insists with closed eyes. "I'm on the ground now. I am killed and slain."</p><p> </p><p>"Betrayal," a tall dark woman mockingly utters. "Treason."</p><p> </p><p>"Noooooooo!"</p><p> </p><p>"It's alright," the lady whispers, "I have connections in high places." With that, she leans down to kiss Az's hand, prompting a small chirp of song in response.</p><p> </p><p>Az simply floats back upright, like the whole display never happened. "Kids, this is Connie."</p><p> </p><p>"Yo."</p><p> </p><p>"Hi, you're really buff!" Mabel screams.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks," Connie snarks, "it's the love. It's stored in the muscles." She jostles the child in her arms. "This little idiot is Morion."</p><p> </p><p>"Who's mister Quiet Guy in the back?" Stan asks.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that's just Connor."</p><p> </p><p>'Connor' is another Gem- just about as tall as Connie and a little more broad, though not as broad as Az. Az and Connor had the same round face, dark eyes, thick brows, and wide chest, but Connor was a bit wirier and skirted closer to the red part of the pink spectrum.</p><p> </p><p>"I wanted to see the hole puncher," Connor deadpans. Or maybe that's just his song.</p><p> </p><p>"Hole punching later!" Mabel hoists up some definitely not entirely legal fireworks. "Destruction is now!"</p><p> </p><p>"What even is that stuff?" Connor squints suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>"I have no idea, but it's going to explode!" Mabel answers cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>Connor stares at her for a moment in silence.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I have one?"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>On July 4, 1982, during an out-of-season snowstorm, Doctor Stanford Filbrick Pines, 27, falls into a man-made interdimensional portal in Gravity Falls.</p><p> </p><p>On July 4, 2012, he's back in time to watch the fireworks.</p><p> </p><p>There's Pitt Cola to spare, and hot dogs on a grill that should never have made it onto the roof. Mabel quickly enchants the small child Morion with the existence of sparklers, and Zeus (Soos?) and that other Gem, Connor, are throwing cheese slices at an oversized wolf and lion below. That young lady Connie is listening in on Fiddleford's DD&amp;D rant with more interest than expected, and it looks like Mason is trying (read: failing) to comprehend the one beer Stanley allowed him to sneak.</p><p> </p><p>It's nice.</p><p> </p><p>And then the fireworks began.</p><p> </p><p>Not <em>their</em> fireworks- Big ones. Ones from the town.</p><p> </p><p>Stanford had tried to power through. Really, he did. Everyone was having such a good time, and he should be, too. But it was just so <em>bright</em>, and <em>loud</em>, and <em>wow fireworks really do sound like bombs and gunshots from a distance, haha, isn't that a fun coincidence.</em></p><p> </p><p>So before he even really knew where his feet were taking him, he'd left the roof, giving some nonspecific excuse he couldn't quite remember, and went back downstairs.</p><p> </p><p>Asteria Diamond is sitting on the porch couch.</p><p> </p><p>"Stanford." Xir song rings oddly hollow against xir smile, eyes not quite seeing the fireworks in the sky. "Did you need something?"</p><p> </p><p>"I-" he sputters for a moment, scratching at his sweater. "-what are you doing down here?"</p><p> </p><p>A strained laugh echoes like a faltered chord of piano keys. "I couldn't stay up there. The fireworks reminded me of..." Diamond eyes trail off to the side. "You wouldn't know. I don't think they would have taught it, in your time."</p><p> </p><p>Despite himself and all the possible dangers, Stanford sits on the other side of the couch anyway. "I'm always willing to learn, regardless."</p><p> </p><p>"There was a war, thousands of years ago," Xe distantly elaborates. "A Gem war. Terrible, drawn out thing. But suddenly they were all retreating. <em>We thought we'd won.</em>" Xir eyes trace the path of the next firework. "There was a bright light, and <em>everyone was</em>..."</p><p> </p><p>The song trails off. The firework explodes, high in the sky.</p><p> </p><p>"It was so long ago," Xe insists. "Most days I hardly even remember it. But others..."</p><p> </p><p>"...it's like it never stopped," Stanford finishes.</p><p> </p><p>He probably should have grabbed a Pitt cola before he left. At least he'd have something to occupy the silence with.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't even know why he starts the conversation again.</p><p> </p><p>"When I woke up a few days ago, the day after you brought me back, I cried." It's a terrible thing to open with, but now it's like he can't stop. "I woke up because I heard people arguing about breakfast. I heard Fiddleford's voice, I heard <em>Stanley's</em> voice, and I... I cried. I haven't cried in thirty years," he almost laughs, "and an argument about bacon made me break down in tears."</p><p> </p><p>It had barely even been that. He'd hardly heard a word of it. But the clash of that Jersey aggression, the Appalachian drawl- for a moment, he was a kid fresh out of Glass Shard Beach all over again.</p><p> </p><p>"Sometimes we only really cry when it's over," Asteria gently adds. "It's normal, I think. For me, at least."</p><p> </p><p><em>Normal.</em> Strange, that anything so mortal could be normal to something like xem.</p><p> </p><p>What a human sentiment.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, space cadets!" Stanley suddenly shouts from the rooftop. "The town light show's over and I'm bored! You two sci-fi couch potatoes wanna blow up my illegal firework collection?"</p><p> </p><p>The Diamond moves to stand. "Well, I should get back up there. Can't leave the kids to be so violently unsupervised. You wanna come with?"</p><p> </p><p>Well... he did want one last cola.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll show you a <em>real</em> space cadet, fucker!" Stanford shouts up at the roof. "I've got a god-damn science gun fit to kill God and I'm not afraid to use it!"</p><p> </p><p>"BET YOU CAN'T SHOOT A FIREWORK BEFORE IT BLOWS UP!"</p><p> </p><p>"YOU FUCKING WATCH, STAN!"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chronologically, <em>Fishing Pictures</em> has finished by this time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0059"><h2>59. It's Like A Zoo Around Here!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mabel asks an adult for help.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Uncle Az?" Mabel slides casually into view, rocking on her tip-toes while Candy and Grenda shyly tap fingers behind her. "You're basically a government, right?"</p><p> </p><p>Steven sips at his chocolate tea. "I guess?"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel's shoulders slump. "Oh thank god. Because I kidnapped these five clone guys who don't legally exist and now I don't know what to do with them."</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mimma</em>, you <em>w h a t</em>-"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No cipher for this short chapter.</p><p>dipper: you sure do know a lot about readjusting people with no life experience<br/>az: haha yeah<br/>dipper: ...why do gems have systems in place for that<br/>az: well you see mason there was this very misguided conservation effort a few thousand years ago involving a human zoo,</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0060"><h2>60. The Emperor Scientist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Experiments are had!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>F has apparently Seen something in the abandoned mines. Puzzling, but he did not sense any particular danger. Lee, F, the twins, the Mechanic, and myself are investigating. The Diamond has come with us.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Xe is... odd. Xe does not appear to be of ill intent, I can be reasonably certain of that now, but it is still difficult to gauge xir motivations, alien as xe is.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why did xe help Lee's project? What does xe want with <span class="u">me?</span></em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>The Amber Mines</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The natural cave system beneath the Falls is host to great quantities of amber, bleeding down from the ancient redwoods of the surface. But most peculiar is what is within the amber.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>DINOSAURS! Can you even believe it?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>An immensely wide variety of prehistoric creatures, perfectly intact! It could have been a great boon for science, if only. Unfortunately, the Diamond noted with some measure of fascinated horror that the creatures were still <span class="u">alive</span> in their containments. The old magic of the trees must have soaked into the amber itself.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The Diamond was... almost disturbingly thrilled at this find. Magic or otherwise, this was a solid example of indefinite suspended animation. Xe immediately started chattering to xemselves about how to extract the resource and apply the findings to medical practice, and by the time we left xe'd already drafted a Gem mining expedition. It is both surprising and almost admirable how quickly xir mind worked, but it's still slightly unsettling to see how quickly xe'd turned to resource exploitation.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Then again, from what I understand, the Diamond caste is specifically geared for leadership. Knowing how to efficiently exploit resources must be pocket change for something like them.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"Compy"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lee stole one of the Compsognathus eggs. I don't even know why I'm surprised. The whole affair was quickly turned into a sort of science experiment.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>The Diamond also appears to have tampered with the egg somewhat, on account of the fact that the dinosaur has hatched with a suspiciously Diamond-colored opalescence. </em> <em>Lee has named it Compy and now endeavors to teach it swear words, like some kind of parrot. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This is incredibly unprofessional. Why limit oneself to only the English language? He could teach it foreign swear words.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lee and F have started a betting pool over what words it will pick up first, and no one can prove that I have participated in such illicit money affairs. Entirely coincidentally, Mothman owes me money. He has thirty years of interest to pay. He better pay.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Compy's first word was "dude." We now owe the mechanic a pizza.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dr pines, breaking down mothman's door: where's my FUCKING MONEY-</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0061"><h2>61. And In Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cipher, interrupted.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Accessibility warning for vision or reading impaired: this chapter contains minor passages with exotic formatting. These are deliberate stylistic choices and are not intended to be visually/verbally coherent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-WELL, WELL, WELL, WELL, <em>WELL WELL WELL WELL <span class="u">WELL WELL WELL</span>-</em></strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It circles all around him like a small gaggle of children.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-AREN'T <em>YOU</em> A SIGHT FOR SORE EYE-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-S̶T̷A̶N̴F̵O̷R̴D̷ ̷F̸I̴L̴B̵R̶I̵C̴K̷ ̸P̶I̸N̸E̸S̶-</strong>
</p><p><strong>-MY OLD PAL</strong>-</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't know what unsettles him more- the fact that the sound of his own name still has a nostalgic weight rendered through that unearthly voice, or that Cipher could still act so <em>enamored</em> with him.</p><p> </p><p>"Bill Cipher," he bites out with more viciousness than he can really afford. "What do you want from me?" There's no time for mockeries of friendship, not anymore. The only way to deal with a demon like this is to keep it straight and to the point.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-OH, DON'T PLAY <span class="u">DUMB</span>, IQ-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>One image of Cipher leans onto his shoulder. Another rustles at his hair, every minute unprinted claw unbearably present.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-YOU KNEW I'D BE BACK-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-YOU THINK SHUTTING DOWN THAT PORTAL CAN STOP WHAT <em>I </em>HAVE PLANNED?-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The images all collide back together, and a much larger eye looms like a long shadow over the endless field of his dream.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU DO-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-YOU CAN ADD AS MANY NEW PLAYERS AS YOU WANT WITH YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HANDS, BUT I'M STILL HERE-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The sky turns black with the night of an alien sky, but Cipher's eye only grows wider.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-YOUR LITTLE TEMPER TANTRUM'S BEEN REAL CUTE, BUT YOU AND I BOTH KNOW I CAN <span class="u">WAIT</span>-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD LET ME IN-</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-FROM NOW UNTIL THE END OF TIME-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Fire burns pristine golds to charred blacks while a pale eye gleams with inevitable fondness.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-YOU CAN'T SHUT ME OUT FOREVER-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>And as Cipher's body dissolves brick by brick, a harsh riff of song rings like the sound of someone's voice telling him to-</p><p> </p><p>"-wake up!"</p><p> </p><p>Stanford coughs out a harsh breath of air, glasses crooked from his own disturbance. "St-Stan?"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there." Stanley reaches up with a hand that still seems to have too many fingers and jostles his own glasses. "You had a bit of a bad wake-up call there, Stan."</p><p> </p><p>"Perhaps," Stanford cryptically allows. "<em>Moses, my head.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"You, uh- you need like a NyQuil or something to put you back to sleep?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, no," he waves off the concern, "it's fine. I'll just-" He half hobbles off the couch he accidentally fell asleep on. "-I'll just get a glass of water."</p><p> </p><p>Stanley and Stanford both know that Stanford's being an absolute liar right now, but Stanley still knows, even after all these years, when not to push it. He gives one last soft wave before he stalks back up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>It's 4AM. Water's not gonna cut it.</p><p> </p><p>As Stanford waits for the coffee machine to do it's work, his tired mind doesn't quite notice his idle hands ghost idle piano chords along the table.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We'll meet again,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>don't know where, don't know when-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>but I know we'll meet again</em>
</p><p>
  <em>some sunny day...</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0062"><h2>62. Animals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A warning, if you will.</p><p>or</p><p>Being enough.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Soos had come back from that roadtrip with the Pines (Wendy swears that the guy is pretty much Stan's adopted kid at this point) with a lot of revelations.</p><p> </p><p>First, Dipper is a wizard. Wendy can believe it. Dipper's a pretty cool dude, so it makes sense he'd have some kind of cool wizard power. She'd even met his little zombie pet owl. It's terrifying and she loves it.</p><p> </p><p>She's not shocked to see magic stuff. She's <em>always</em> known about the weird around here- Dad raised all his kids to respect the woods and to keep quiet about it, and taught her a few spare tricks to keep what's <em>in</em> the woods from eating her alive.</p><p> </p><p>So when Mabel said that she and her friends needed some unicorn hair to make a magic barrier for the shack, Wendy had shrugged, grabbed the axe she's not dumb enough to leave at home, and tagged along.</p><p> </p><p>Unicorns- they're prissy, vicious little fuckers, and their rainbow blood hurts like a bitch. Wendy and the girls are half drenched in the glittery stuff when they walk in.</p><p> </p><p>...Soos had said Az was an alien, but Wendy hadn't quite believed it.</p><p> </p><p>But Az is sitting at the living room coffee table, fullbody pink, some kind of gem right on his belly and <em>oh lordy those are some big claws right there how the fuck did she not notice that before.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Kids?" There's a kind of glow scattered across his dark eyes all the sudden. "What happened to you? Did you get hurt?"</p><p> </p><p>"The unicorns were being little bitches," Wendy bites out.</p><p> </p><p>"SO WE BEAT 'EM UP!" Mabel shouts</p><p> </p><p>"Mercy! Is that their blood, then?" He turns his his head further into the house. "Lion! Come clean this up!"</p><p> </p><p>And an honest-to-god pink lion nudges through the doorway. Before she can even process <em>that</em>, the lion promptly starts licking her face.</p><p> </p><p>"Ew! Get off."</p><p> </p><p>"It's alright," Az reassures. "He's clean and he's got some minor healing properties. I don't want that foreign blood to soak into your skin, especially considering unicorns are creatures of magic."</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, fine." It's not like she can pull away, regardless. The thing looks like its bigger than a polar bear, and it gently holds her in place with one massive paw as a sandpaper tongue meticulously gathers the blood out of her hair.</p><p> </p><p>By the time Lion is done with her, moving on to the girls (who are delighted to receive magic lion kisses), apparently it's Az's turn to poke at her. Large hands move her hands like a mannequin, checking joints and bones,  before he nods once to himself and quickly kisses her hand. The bruises on her face suddenly hurt a less, and the cuts on her arms disappear. Huh.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Mabel heard that Gems are made <em>for</em> things- they have purposes and talents that they're born with. And a Diamond's job is to be in charge of Gems and take care of them and make more of them. Like a mommy, or something.</p><p> </p><p>That's probably why Az is so sweet. He's made to be everybody's mommy! Mabel thinks there's something kind of pretty in that- imagine, to be <em>made</em> to love and care for other people. </p><p> </p><p>(It must be nice, to be so pure of heart.)</p><p> </p><p>Az cares about people, but sometimes in a Gem kind of way. Like right now? He's in an inspection kind of mode. Tugging at her fingers to make sure they haven't been busted up, turning her arm to make sure the bones haven't broken, gently pawing at her face and hair. All the while with this zen, zoned out expression on his face.</p><p> </p><p>"What did I tell you before you left?"</p><p> </p><p><em>Don't poke fun at wild things, Mabel. Even if it's their fault. Even if they deserve it. </em>"Don't... don't bully wild animals?"</p><p> </p><p>"You aren't asking me, you're <em>telling</em> me. What did I tell you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Don't bully wild animals," Mabel mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>"Why don't we bully wild animals?"</p><p> </p><p>"I might get hurt."</p><p> </p><p>"And?"</p><p> </p><p>"And..." Mabel's shoe scuffs on the carpet. "...an animal gets mad, it isn't going to stop being mad, even if I'm sorry." Az's hands are held together in a strange sort of way- as if two different people were holding eachother's hands. "Uncle Az?"</p><p> </p><p>He blinks slowly. "Yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>"...Your hands are shaking."</p><p> </p><p>His arms glide closer together, his hands holding his wrists. "I don't like to see you get hurt over something like this."</p><p> </p><p>"But-" <em>I'm not a little kid, I can do this, I'm good enough to do this- </em>"-but protecting the Shack is important."</p><p> </p><p>"I know." He pets at her sweater for a moment. "But <em>you're </em>important, too. You're worth more than a few strands of hair, Mabel. I'm not mad, but I'd rather you girls have come back empty handed than gotten hurt."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You're worth more than that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She doesn't even know why the tears start to come out of her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"What's wrong, sweetie?"</p><p> </p><p>"She said," Mabel sniffles, "she said I wasn't good enough."</p><p> </p><p>And something in his heart seems to break right there.</p><p> </p><p>"She said I was a bad person," she wavers. "She acted like a <em>jerk </em>because I wasn't pure of heart enough for her."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, that was very unkind of her. You didn't deserve that."</p><p> </p><p>"But it was <em>my</em> fault," Mabel cries. "I wasn't good enough-"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey," Az suddenly cuts out with a soft sort of conviction. "If she thinks you're not good enough, that's on her, okay? You don't-" his song almost breaks for a moment, "-you don't have to be <em>good enough</em> for people. No one ever is."</p><p> </p><p>"I just wanted to be <em>enough</em> for once."</p><p> </p><p>"You're already enough." He gives her a brief one-armed hug. "Okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Okay,</em>" Mabel whispers into his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>"You want some Mabel Juice?" Az asks. "I think I finally got it right this time."</p><p> </p><p>"Are you gonna try and add Red Hots again?"</p><p> </p><p>"...No?"</p><p> </p><p>"You're a terrible liar, Uncle Az."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>mabelcorn just happened out of order! after all, ford's back early and wants to protect the shack.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0063"><h2>63. Just Gotta Get Out, Just Gotta Get Out Of Here!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is not what Dipper had in mind when he said he'd rather die than sing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"I hate this," Dipper whispers.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel leans dramatically over her karaoke machine. "What? How can you be such a buzzkill over a party like this?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's <em>not</em> a party, Mabel," Dipper corrects less gently than he probably should. "It's a litmus test to see if anyone in town's been possessed by Bill. Disguised as a party," Dipper concedes as he looks at the snack table. "The minute someone can't pass the unicorn barrier, we have to shut it all down."</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, you're no fun." Mabel's grin goes devious. "You know what would loosen you up?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mabel, don't.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>I </em>think..."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Mabel I swear to fuck I'll disown you</em><em>.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"...you need some KARAOKE FUN HOURS!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>God in heaven help me</em>," Dipper whispers.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on," Mabel twirls her microphone like a spoon in front of a baby. "You know you want to."</p><p> </p><p>"I would literally rather die than sing karaoke in front of the entire town, Mabel."</p><p> </p><p>"Then I guess I shouldn't have put us down as the main event," Mabel casually smiles.</p><p> </p><p>"EXSCUSE ME YOU FUCKING <strong>W H A T</strong>-"</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>The exact moment Dipper gets on stage, he longingly thinks of the privacy of Uncle Ford's study.</p><p> </p><p>He bops nervously to the music, his own heartbeat not quite drowning out Mabel's enthusiastic screaming, and thinks <em>someone kill me now.</em></p><p> </p><p>"<em>So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?</em> " Dipper nervously sings. "<em>So you think you can love me and leave me to die?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>"<em>OH BABY! </em>" Mabel belts, "<em>CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, BABY-</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Just gotta get out,</em>" Dipper half pleads along, "<em>just gotta get right out of here! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Ooh, oo</em>oooh- what was that?" Mabel suddenly asks.</p><p> </p><p>Right in time to the music, there's a hollow thunk outside the Shack.</p><p> </p><p>Up against the window, the skeletal hands of zombies knock at the glass, just barely blocked by the magic barrier.</p><p> </p><p>A horde of emaciated glowing eyes stare right back at Dipper.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0064"><h2>64. With A Customer Service Smile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dipper learns his "please and thank you".</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Alright everybody!" Stan shouts through a megaphone. "Calm the fuck down!" He gestures to the windows. "The wrinkly street freaks can't get in the Shack because they're weak babies and we got protection. Everybody sit tight and we'll figure this out! Eat some chips! Buy some merch!" Stanley nudges at his Mr. Mystery eyepatch. "You can't tell, but I'm winking."</p><p> </p><p>The joke gets a few laughs, and everything calms down a little bit.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper nudges at Stan's shirt. "Where's Uncle Ford?"</p><p> </p><p>"He went up to the roof to try and snipe a few of the zombies. He said somethin' about how we could explode the zombie's heads with some kind of <em>three part harmony</em>, but he isn't sure if we have the equipment to make something loud enough to get all of 'em." Stan scratches at his fez. "If <em>Az</em> was here he could probably make some kinda noise on his own, but we're gonna have to make do."</p><p> </p><p>"Where's Az even been <em>going</em>?" Mabel asks. "Ever since Grunkle Ford came back, Uncle Az's been wandering off more and more."</p><p> </p><p>"He's got a <em>job</em>, sweetie. He can't be here all the time."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper squints at the window. "Hey, some of the zombies are walking <em>away</em> from the Shack."</p><p> </p><p>Stan and Mabel join him to look, and sure enough, he's right. Some zombies are randomly turning their heads away and wandering off...</p><p> </p><p>...to follow the pizza slices falling out of the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Stan leans into his walkie-talkie. "Soos, what the fuck are you doing?"</p><p> </p><p>"<span class="u">Hey there Mr. Pines!</span>" Soos' voice crackles on the other end. "<span class="u">I was bringing up some pizza for the other Mr. Pines, but then I kind of panicked when one of the dead guys tried to climb up the walls and threw a slice at it.</span>" Soos laughs. "<span class="u">Turns out these guys are like pigeons. I've been tossing pizza bits at 'em and they just follow it like breadcrumbs.</span>"</p><p> </p><p>"<span class="u">You might think <em>you're </em>weirded out, Stan,</span>" Ford's voice distantly cuts in, "<span class="u">But I'm the one who has to </span><em><span class="u">watch</span></em><span class="u"> it happen.</span>"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah," Stan barks. "Deal with it."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Hey,</em>" a voice suddenly shouts, "<em>is there a Mason Pines here?</em> "</p><p> </p><p>Dipper chokes on his red Solo cup.</p><p> </p><p>Robbie's fingerless gloved hand cuts through the crowd as he nudges towards them. "Mason Pines? Do we have one here?"</p><p> </p><p>"I-" Dipper's voice cracks embarrassingly for a moment. "-I'm Mason. How did you know my name?"</p><p> </p><p>"The zombies won't shut up," Robbie growls irritably. "Turn it off."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, what?"</p><p> </p><p>Robbie defiantly stuffs his headphones over his ears. "They won't fucking shut up about you. Make them go away!"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel turns to Dipper with a scandalized gasp. "<em>You</em> brought the zombies here?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>It was an accident, okay? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"They aren't gonna stop until you release them," Robbie presses. "Tell them thank you so they can fuck off."</p><p> </p><p>Dipper squints suspiciously. "How would <em>you</em> know?"</p><p> </p><p>"I've been surrounded by dead guys since before I could talk, Dipper! I've seen some shit!"</p><p> </p><p>"They're trying to kill us!" Dipper whisper-shouts back. "What the fuck am I thanking them for?"</p><p> </p><p>"They're here because of <em>you</em>. Thank them for showing up! I don't fucking care, just make them go away!" Robbie pulls his hoodie down tighter over his head. "<em>They're so fucking loud</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, <em>fine.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>When he gets up to the roof, Soos somehow <em>still</em> has pizza to spare in his ongoing effort to keep the zombies away. The zombies all look up at him for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey." Dipper takes a moment to cringe at the megaphone feedback. "G-good job for showing up you guys, but you don't need to be here anymore, so..." Dipper trails of uncertainly. "Thank you for your service?"</p><p> </p><p>The commotion stops, and the zombies slowly walk away. A few of them give one last parting thumbs up, and others grab the pizza bits on the ground as they leave.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh thank fuck," Dipper whispers.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank fuck indeed," Stan breathes with a hearty slap on Dipper's hat. "Also you're grounded for summoning zombies."</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, <em>what-</em>"</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0065"><h2>65. My Own Self</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Into the bunker.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>There is a noise, echoing in the caverns. From the <em>above.</em></p><p> </p><p>It flicks the large ear of its current bat form. It had taken to adopting smaller forms lately- they were proving less costly to maintain than its true form, able to be sustained by the meager mice and insects that passed through.</p><p> </p><p>...<em>Footsteps. </em>Human footsteps.</p><p> </p><p>Its form shivers for a moment. How long had it been since it had heard a voice? Seen a living face?</p><p> </p><p>Seen someone, <em>anyone?</em></p><p> </p><p>How long had it been... so, <em>so hungry...</em></p><p> </p><p>It is a rabbit hopping along the packed, moist soil, unconscious clicking escaping its jagged mouth in time with the distant noise of its new quarry.</p><p> </p><p>The step-sounds are slower now, more deliberate, and something gleams along the ground. Round and shining and... sweet?</p><p> </p><p>Its jaw unravels to devour the object. Yes, sweet It remembers sweet. It remembers the sweet of berries and fruits and honey, and the sweetness of... something else. It does not recall. It recalls strange small objects hidden in the pockets of old coats, wrapped in plastics and papers.</p><p> </p><p>So so hungry.</p><p> </p><p>It bounds with a little more eagerness after the distant foot-sounds and fallen sweetness.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>The old twins didn't come with them for obvious reasons (it wouldn't do to dig up old aggressions) and neither did the kids. Az (<em>you can call me Steven</em>, she'd said) had rather determinedly put her foot down in that regard. <em>Wild things</em>, her song rang with a little too much experience, <em>will not know to show mercy to children.</em></p><p> </p><p>So it was only Fiddleford, Steven, and Soos. Soos didn't really <em>need</em> to be there, per se- but there were a number of mechanical components to the bunker that hadn't been touched for just over three decades, so having someone who can Not So Metaphorically fix literally anything was still handy.</p><p> </p><p>"So, uh-" Soos pops another Smez candy in his mouth, "-how'd a big shapeshifty monster dude even end up here?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Fiddleford starts uncertainly, "Stanford found it all buried as an egg in the ground- we was thinkin it mighta had an ancestor from that Crash Site Omega. Their old archives mentioned an escapin' subject that was all a changin' shape on 'em."</p><p> </p><p>"So it's like your little alien baby!"</p><p> </p><p>"Somethin' like that," Fiddleford nervously laughs. "It was right tame, but then one day it went an' snapped all the sudden. Trussed me all up in a closet and went fer' Stanford, he had t' trap it in here. And now we're followin' up on it." He shudders. "Sweet mercy. I don' even know what it could <em>look like</em> right now. Don' even know if it's still alive here!"</p><p> </p><p>"It's alive," Steven whispers soberly. "I can hear it in the walls."</p><p> </p><p>Everyone stops.</p><p> </p><p>Everything stops until they can all finally hear what a Diamond's ears can hear- a subtle, clicking, skittering noise echoing along metal pipes.</p><p> </p><p>A long tongue slowly reaches down from a gap in a ceiling pipe, and takes a Smez right out of Soos' hand.</p><p> </p><p>Like any reasonable human, Soos jumps a little, prompting the vague shape of the creature above into spasming motion. It crashes onto the ground and crouches against the wall with a wheezing, rattling hiss.</p><p> </p><p>It is a hulking, unbalanced, boneless creature with a sickly translucent body and swollen, spindling arms. Red milky eyes flare blindly against the glare of flashlights, a wide lip curled around jagged honing teeth in blatant distaste. Bruising crab-like legs clatter against the rocky earth, and the long-atrophied stumps of what should have been wings and antennae seize with futile aggression. </p><p> </p><p>As the three of them just barely dare to approach, it puffs its waspish chest in suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey there, friend," Fiddleford greets hesitantly. "Remember me?"</p><p> </p><p>The creature looks at him for a moment. Its form melts into a crane thin, lab-coated man with dirty blonde hair. "Remember me?" The mirror of a younger McGucket parrots.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that's it. That's me," the old man smiles. "Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."</p><p> </p><p>The shape molds in on itself again. A broader, sturdier shape in a trenchcoat, with spidery six fingered hands. "Fidds." The echo of a younger Stanford warps just slightly- frazzled, twitching- an unhinged memory of a golden glow in ocean dark eyes. "Remember <em>me? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Stanford's not like that." Fiddleford hesitates. "<em>Anymore.</em> That weren't all his fault, he- he wasn't himself."</p><p> </p><p>The voice is Stanford's, but the laugh certainly isn't. "That six fingered p-p-p-" The form twitches for a moment, "-<em>Poindexter-</em>" it continues with a harsh barking voice, "-hasn't been <em>himself</em> for over thirty years."</p><p> </p><p>"Neither have <em>you</em>, it looks like," Fiddleford frowns, crossing his arms. "Look at you, you've gotten all sick."</p><p> </p><p>"I was trying to <em>help</em> you," it speaks with a sudden severity. "Away, away from-"</p><p> </p><p>The echo of Stanford shivers, hunching over and almost convulsing with hysterical, golden-eyed laughter.</p><p> </p><p>"He was <em>insane</em>," it whispers. "I don't know how you could ever stand him."</p><p> </p><p>"I-"</p><p> </p><p>He should defend his old friend- say something on his behalf, <em>anything.</em> But... it wasn't even wrong. Who knows what Stanford wouldn't have done, back then.</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe he <em>was</em> insane," Fiddleford finally says, "but seein' how he's changed now, I don't think either o' us had the full picturin' on it."</p><p> </p><p>"If that's what you <em>really</em> believe," it laughs bitterly, "<em>you're</em> insane, too."</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe. And maybe that's why I'm right insane enough that I'm not leavin' here without you."</p><p> </p><p>Fiddleford dares to take a step forward, and the echo of Stanford melts back into a sickly white and charges.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>But the blow never comes.</p><p> </p><p>It does not come no matter what form it takes.</p><p> </p><p>It does not come no matter how many hurtful echoes it spits.</p><p> </p><p>It does not come no matter how many monsters it becomes.</p><p> </p><p>It does not come as it shifts to bears, to snakes, to forms as terrifying and amorphous as fire.</p><p> </p><p>An old man's wiry arms are cloaked in the barest shield of pink, locked around its body with a grim determination that never lets go.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not ever gonna forget what happened to me," Fiddleford whispers. "I already tried. And I'm <em>done</em> forgettin' about everybody that did me wrong." A wizened hand firmly rests against a milky, sickly white head. "And you both did me some major, <em>major</em> wrong. But that's why I ain't leavin' either o' you behind. 'Cuz Lord knows you need a hand. So it might as well be me."</p><p> </p><p>"Did-" Its voice is staggers for a moment. "-did he <em>really</em> change that much?"</p><p> </p><p>"I think he's <em>tryin'</em>," Fiddleford concedes. "That's a hell a lot more than a lot of people can be ready t' do."</p><p> </p><p>"I could-" Its voice is suddenly small- almost like a child's. "-<em>I could change? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"If two stubborn old men can change, then it'll be the easiest thing in the world for ya."</p><p> </p><p>"...Okay."</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere, distantly, Az and Soos sigh with relief behind them.</p><p> </p><p>"That's that, then."</p><p> </p><p>Fiddleford steps back, and does nothing more or less than hold out his hand.</p><p> </p><p>"Let's come back home, Ainsel."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>Ainsel.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ainsel.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>That was... that was its <em>name.</em> Ainsel was its name- the name it had never once heard for over thirty years.</p><p> </p><p>Ainsel remembers its name, holds out a spindled, three fingered hand, and lets itself be led back into the sun.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0066"><h2>66. Play Ball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And it had been such a good day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Today had been a <em>good </em>day.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it wasn't quite a <em>normal</em> day. But it was a good one.</p><p> </p><p>Soos was carrying enough snacks to feed everyone, happily feeding scraps to an odd patchy albino ball python on McGucket's neck that the old man apparently just 'found' one day, while old hands glided over a Rubik's cube with a little too much enthusiasm.</p><p> </p><p>Grunkle Stan was determinedly wearing one of his 'leisure outfits', which was basically a slightly oversized Hawaiian shirt that Grunkle Ford was unexpectedly also okay with wearing a matching one of.</p><p> </p><p>Stan was still wearing his fez like he always did, and Ford had brought along one of his Journals. Apparently, this mini-golf course didn't exist when he lived here, so he was eagerly sitting down on a bench, quietly sketching the elaborate props of castles and pirate ships, writing Mabel's many pieces of mini-golf trivia on the margins. He actually <em>listens</em> to her mini-golf knowledge. Dipper <em>tried, </em>but he never could quite keep up.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of Dipper, at least the pencils are keeping his attention, even if he <em>is </em>chewing on them like a dog while watching Az absentmindedly chew on some weird long stick with a dragon face on it, golf pencil dwarfed in his broad hand as he noted down Mabel's score.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel's ball makes it to the hole, and Az silently smiles with a thumbs up. He hasn't really said a word all day, but that's okay. He's just like that sometimes, and he seems happy enough.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, hey," a snide voice sounds when Mabel doesn't quite angle her ball into the hole, "I didn't know it was <em>Hobos Golf Free</em> day!"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel grudgingly turns toward the cultivated rasp. "<em>Pacifica.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>The Northwest family all lean on their overpriced golf clubs, the utterly perfect picture of veiled condescension. "If it isn't the Pines family," Pacifica drawls with a little too much politeness to be friendly as she points at each of them in turn, "Fat, Old, Weird, Hobo, Psycho, Lame, and Braces." At Pacifica's very pointed <em>psycho</em>, Az's face goes withdrawn as he shrinks back just slightly. </p><p> </p><p>Grunkle Stan hikes up his sleeves. "Is it wrong to punch a child?" he mutters to Ford, who is suddenly <em>very</em> interested in the gun he said he wouldn't hide under his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Very</em> creative, Pacifica," Dipper snarks past crossed arms. "How <em>is </em>it being a family of frauds, again?"</p><p> </p><p>Pacifica looks aside a split second too fast. "Oh, it's great, actually," she cuts back quickly, "it turns out money <em>can</em> just make problems disappear. Not that <em>you'd</em> know."</p><p> </p><p>And <em>maybe</em> Mabel had told Pacifica to get out of here because she's interrupting a <em>real</em> player. And <em>maybe</em> Pacifica had coyly put a hole-in-one on the bonus hole and smugly let the pyrotechnic explosion of her victory shine off her diamond earrings.</p><p> </p><p>And <em>maybe</em> (maybe) Mabel had asked for a rematch.</p><p> </p><p>That Pacifica agreed to.</p><p> </p><p>At midnight.</p><p> </p><p>Tonight.</p><p> </p><p>Mabel brushes the rain of an all too coincidental summer storm out of her face and thinks <em>oh. I'm dead.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'm so, so dead.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the word "autism" basically means <em>self focused</em>, because autism was originally thought to be a form of schizophrenia or psychopathy where a person retreated into themselves.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0067"><h2>67. Jack's Old Box</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A box and a card.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Pacifica has never been out past midnight.</p><p> </p><p>Pacifica has never gotten in a stranger's car.</p><p> </p><p>Pacifica has never taken handouts.</p><p> </p><p>...Pacifica has never lost.</p><p> </p><p>Pacifica is sitting in the back of an old Dondai at 2 AM, being driven to the nearest Jack In The Box by a stranger.</p><p> </p><p>And she...</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...she...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She's losing.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No. No, she's not <span class="u">losing</span>. She's not losing, because she is a Northwest and a Northwest <span class="u">does not</span> lose.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She is not losing.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But Mabel Pines is <span class="u">winning.</span></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And she's winning by herself. She is winning without gloves. Without equipment. Without training, without proper clothes, she is winning with <span class="u">nothing</span> and she's <span class="u">smiling</span> while she does it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"How much?"</p><p> </p><p>"W-what?"</p><p> </p><p>"You <em>win!</em> OKAY! <em>You won!</em> But I <em>can't lose!</em> So how much? How much is it going to take to make you shut up and forget about this?"</p><p> </p><p>"...Pacifica-"</p><p> </p><p>"Hold it over my head and take this to your <em>fucking</em> grave, but name your price. Because <em>I can't lose.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"...No."</p><p> </p><p>"Literally any price-"</p><p> </p><p>"No! I don't- I- if it's tearing you up <em>this </em>bad, you can win, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't want your pity win."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not a pity win, Pacifica. Look, I- I don't <em>need</em> to win. I just wanted this... <em>rivalry</em> to stop hanging over our heads. So if winning is more important to you, you can have it, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"...I'm not supposed to take handouts."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not a handout. I had a good time, y'know? But it's no fun if I'm the only one having a good time. We're both good- we don't need to know who's better. At least I don't. You can just tell your parents I chickened out, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"...You forfeited and I went home. I humored you."</p><p> </p><p>"Exactly. And since I forfeited, we've still got some time to kill before your parents want you to come home, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"They don't c- they have no curfew for me, as long as I come home eventually."</p><p> </p><p>"Good! Wanna get some curly fries?"</p><p> </p><p>"W-what."</p><p> </p><p>"I made you come all this way to 'forfeit', so I'm paying you for your lost time... if that's okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"You're gonna have to tell me what a curl fry is."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not hearing a no."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0068"><h2>68. All That We See Or Seem,</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Is but a dream, within a dream.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>She walks inside, takes five steps, and almost trips over a <em>literal chainsaw, what the fuck</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"SORRY, SWEETIE!" her dad shouts just a little too close to her ear as he swings the wayward tool over his shoulder. "WE HAD A BIT OF AN ACCIDENT IN THE HOUSE THIS MORNIN'! DEER GOT IN AND STARTED WRECKIN' ALL THE FURNITURE!" He sets the chainsaw behind the couch. "COMPLETELY UNRELATED, BUT WE'RE HAVIN' VENISON TONIGHT!"</p><p> </p><p>" 'm not hungry," she mutters. "I just wanna go to bed."</p><p> </p><p>"THE DEER CAME IN THROUGH YOUR WINDOW! YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH!"</p><p> </p><p>Wendy lets out a shaking sigh.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, here comes the freak again."</p><p> </p><p>"How's the view from up there, Red?"</p><p> </p><p>"Y'know guys, like- <em>hate</em> tall girls."</p><p> </p><p>"I mean, to date, but I guess a ride is fine. How many boyfriends has she been through?"</p><p> </p><p>"Fucking slut."</p><p> </p><p>"You think her dad fucked a tree? I mean, she's gotta get that height from somewhere."</p><p> </p><p>"Please, a giant like that? I'm pretty sure that lumberjack fucks bears."</p><p> </p><p>"Do you guys even have, like, electricity out there?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Be cool. Be cool.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"You think some sus shit happened to their mom?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I mean- crazy axeman with a cabin in the woods, anything can happen, right?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She just wants to curl up and cry.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop it, stop it, stop it, please.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Hey.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Hey, are you okay?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"I just want it to stop," Wendy half-sobs. "I just want it to stop."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>It's okay.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>You'll be alright.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"No, it's not."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I can make it stop.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"You... you <em>can? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I can make it stop.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I can get you out of here.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>You won't have to worry about any of this anymore.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"<em>How? </em><em>It feels so bad...</em>"</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>It'll be easy.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>All you have to do...</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-IS TAKE MY HAND-</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>-AND YOU WON'T EVER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING AGAIN-</strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0069"><h2>69. A Forever As Long As Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And you knew, didn't you? It was never going to last.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Aaaaaa....</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Aaaaaaaa...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"...a<em>aaaaaaz!</em> " Mabel slowly shouts as she stomps through the house on moon shoes. "Uncle Az? Where you at?" She pokes into the room he's been staying in. "Beep beep!"</p><p> </p><p>Az looks away from the freaky pink sci-fi screen he'd been tapping away on. "Mabel. Did you need something?"</p><p> </p><p>"You know, like, fancy opera stuff, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"Why would I know <em>fancy opera stuff? </em>" He smiles.</p><p> </p><p>"I mean- you're basically space royalty or whatever. Isn't seeing fancy plays a thing fancy people do?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I don't know if that's something <em>other</em> people do, but I am friends with a guy who runs a theatre."</p><p> </p><p>"Cool, cool, cool." She bounces in place, savoring the springing of her moon shoes. "Can you help me out? I'm doing a really big puppet show. I could use your knowledge to increase the <em>power</em>."</p><p> </p><p><em>Of course, sweetie</em>, <em>you know I'm always happy to help</em>.</p><p> </p><p>But that's not what he says. He only tilts his head a little sad into his smile. "Sorry, Mabel, I can't. I'm leaving soon."</p><p> </p><p><em>What. </em>"Wh- what do you mean? What..."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>It had been a good morning. It had been a <em>great</em> morning.</p><p> </p><p>Az had made pasta- for breakfast! Pasta and pancakes, and the moon shoes Mom wouldn't let Mabel get at home finally got shipped in.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper watches her bounce on the couch with her moon shoes. "How are you going to smuggle that when you pack to go back home?"</p><p> </p><p>Mabel spares a pointed glance to the undead owl on Dipper's hat. "How are <em>you</em> gonna smuggle Jives back home?" she scoffs.</p><p> </p><p>Dipper gets a weird look on his face. "Mabel, I'm not coming home for fall."</p><p> </p><p>"You tell terrible jokes, bro-bro."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not joking, Mabel." Dipper gets that weird squint for when she doesn't get one of his nerd rants. (She hates that look.) "I told you about this like three days ago. Great-uncle Ford wants to make me his apprentice while we work on his thesis."</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, <em>what? </em>" Mabel flops on the cushions, making Waddles' fat body jump a little. "You're going to stay and do <em>nerd paperwork? </em>Ew!"</p><p> </p><p>"It's not <em>nerd paperwork</em>, Mabel." Jives clicks excitedly as Dipper clacks his pen. "Ford's finally putting together his Grand Unified Theory Of Weirdness. It's the culmination of thirty years of scientific research! This could change science as we know it forever!"</p><p> </p><p>"But... what about school?"</p><p> </p><p>"Uncle Ford has 12 PhDs," Dipper mutters. "It's not like I'll be hurting for knowledge, he can just homeschool me. It's just-" Dipper fiddles with his hat. "-this is a really great opportunity for me, y'know? I might not ever get a better chance to really do what <em>I </em>want with my life."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well, it's a horrible opportunity for <span class="u">me.</span></em>
</p><p> </p><p>"We'll-" Mabel hugs her sweater a little tighter. "-we'll still <em>talk</em> and stuff, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, duh." Dipper smiles. "The internet's always going to be a thing."</p><p> </p><p>"...Okay."</p><p> </p><p>It's not <em>too</em> bad. It's not like Dipper's just <em>disappearing</em>. Besides, even if Dipper's not going to be around anymore, at least the Shack will still-</p><p> </p><p>"GREAT NEWS, EVERYONE!" Grunkle Stan marches into the living room. "I'm finally retiring!"</p><p> </p><p>"WHAT?" Mabel shouts.</p><p> </p><p>"I know, right?" Stan barks out a laugh. "I thought I'd be working here <em>forever</em>. But I-" Stan perks up his glasses. "-the Shack, it was really just a way to foot the bills while I was workin' on gettin' Stanford back, and... I <em>got</em> him back. That's all I really wanted. So I'm thinkin', y'know, it might be... it might be time to step down."</p><p> </p><p>"But what's gonna happen to the shack?" Mabel asks. "What's gonna happen to <em>you? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Stan leans into the twins with a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, don't go around tellin' anyone, but I think Soos has been <em>Employee Of The Month</em> for a little too long, hasn't he? I think the Mystery Shack could use a new Mr. Mystery. As for me?"</p><p> </p><p>Stan runs a hand through his hair.</p><p> </p><p>"Stanford wants to go traveling to finish up his thesis, and," a wistful look crosses his face, "I've always wanted to sail."</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>"...what do you <em>mean</em>, you're leaving soon?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Az explains as he closes up his screen, "I said I was here to help Stanley with work. That was the portal. With that done, my <em>job</em> here is done, really. I don't know how much you kids keep up with the news, but there's about to be an intergalactic trial 'cause of that stuff that happened in New York. I'm gonna have to deal with that eventually."</p><p> </p><p>"But-" Mabel's voice grows small. "-<em>but I don't want you to leave Gravity Falls.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, <em>mimma</em>." He opens his arms a bit, just enough for Mabel to fall into him where he sits. "It's gonna be okay! It's not like we'll never see eachother again. I'll be back in town for that music festival, remember?" His large clawed hand passes over her hair. "You know I loved being with you kids. You can keep in touch as much as you want. But..."</p><p> </p><p>A soft sigh.</p><p> </p><p>"...You know neither of us could stick around here forever, right? I have to go back to work, you guys have to go back to school." He smiles softly. "That's not a bad thing, y'know? It's just how it is. Things change... summer ends."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," she whispers. </p><p> </p><p>Mabel's hands curl into Az's vest- dark like cherries, softer than sweaters.</p><p> </p><p>"I guess it does."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Jay's gone off and made a new cipher!</p><p>Again, we do encourage people to comment/share their progress with the ciphers, or to work together on it. We won't know if these puzzles are any good if no one's telling us about solving them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0070"><h2>70. Pacifica The Priest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An excuse to see you dressed up fine.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>(Paz)sive Aggressive</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>💎Paz!💎 </p><p>👈Hey are you free for like the next few days?</p><p> </p><p>Yeah sure.</p><p> </p><p>You don't even know what I'm about to ask</p><p> </p><p>I'll do what I want, peasant.</p><p> </p><p>oof</p><p>that's fair i guess😔</p><p> </p><p>Tell me what I'm drowning my next week with</p><p> </p><p>uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh</p><p>muppet show</p><p>hecc</p><p>puppet show</p><p> </p><p>a what now</p><p> </p><p>🧦 sock Puppets™</p><p> </p><p>What does this have to do with me???</p><p> </p><p>i need human actors</p><p>Mayhaps</p><p>you could be a reverend</p><p> </p><p>i'm puppeting a sock nun</p><p> </p><p>No no</p><p>you shall Be a reverend</p><p>I will make 🎆fancy✨ outfit for you</p><p> </p><p>no</p><p> </p><p>Darn</p><p>guess i'll ask Dipper</p><p> </p><p>No wait come back i'll do it</p><p>i didn't say I didn't want to</p><p>Let Me Pick Out My Outfit</p><p> </p><p>oh worm?</p><p> </p><p>Actually, fuck it.</p><p>If I have to be seen with this I'm funding this.</p><p>You are using My fabrics because 👏 Don't 👏 Speak 👏 Broke 👏</p><p>...</p><p>I mean if that's okay</p><p>You can use your own stuff if you want</p><p> </p><p>pacifica are you giving me a budget</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps</p><p> </p><p>HELL YEAH</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>🧊 <strong>Ice Ice Baby </strong>🧊</p><p> </p><p>HEY IS THIS MABEL</p><p>WAIT</p><p>hey is this Mabel</p><p>it's Wendy</p><p> </p><p>ye??</p><p>it me??</p><p>what you on???</p><p> </p><p>sorry I blanked forgot my contact nicknames</p><p> </p><p>fair enough</p><p> </p><p>i heard you wanted to do puppets</p><p> </p><p>ye</p><p> </p><p>i can do puppets.</p><p>i know alot about puppets.</p><p> </p><p>you sure? you've looked kinda worn out lately</p><p> </p><p>I can do puppets.</p><p> </p><p>okay then!</p><p>welcome about the sock puppet express</p><p>ABOARD</p><p> </p><p>🌠 ALL ABOARD 🌠</p><p> </p><p>How do you even know about puppet stuff anyway?</p><p>Didn't think that was something you were into</p><p> </p><p>Oh I know lots of things</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>no cipher since it's only texting</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0071"><h2>71. Sock Puppet Fever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>"Wendy!" Mabel hops off her chair. "I thought you weren't coming over! I didn't see you at the Shack this morning."</p><p> </p><p>Wendy lets out a long-suffering noise. "Ugh, Mr. Pines wouldn't let me call in. I say I have just the <em>littlest</em> fever and suddenly I can't even tiptoe into the Shack for a second." She pulls at the medical mask on her face. "Even slapped one of <em>these</em> on me. I hate this body, man."</p><p> </p><p>"I feel that," Mabel sighs.</p><p> </p><p>"Where's Dipper, anyway?" Wendy look around at all the scattered stuff being laid out in Candy's room. "I thought you guys were like, attached at the hip or something."</p><p> </p><p>"No," Mabel giggles uneasily, "not really. He's off with Grunkle Ford doing some kind of weird science thing. He said he'll be back for the show though... if nothing else comes up," Mabel adds hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>"That's too bad," Wendy responds casually. "I hope he does show up."</p><p> </p><p>"Hah, yeah. Me too."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Golf Club</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Are you gonna be late?</p><p>I'm just picking up some iced coffees.</p><p> </p><p>OOOH</p><p>That'll go great with all the 🍩🍩DONUTS🍩🍩 Grenda's bringing for us!</p><p> </p><p>Are you like busy after the puppet stuff today</p><p> </p><p>no why</p><p> </p><p>was thinking we could raid my closet later. My parents aren't home and we're</p><p>Probably the same dress size? Looks like it at least</p><p> </p><p>✨cool✨</p><p>but why???</p><p> </p><p>I don't wanna be mean but you've kinda looked</p><p>depressed</p><p>lately?</p><p> </p><p>OOF</p><p>was i THAT obvious?</p><p>yike</p><p>i guess i've been thinking about like. Life™</p><p>everything's starting to move so fast and it's BLARG</p><p> </p><p>Ugh, same.</p><p>We deserve a dress-up day, to be honest.</p><p> </p><p>yknow what</p><p>YEAH</p><p>WE TOTALLY DO</p><p> </p><p>COOL</p><p>WHY ARE WE YELLING</p><p> </p><p>BECAUSE WE GONNA HAVE A GOOD TIME PAZ</p><p> </p><p>FAIR I GUESS</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The interactive web novel Oddwick Isles has been launched! You can read it at https://tapas.io/series/Oddwick-Isles<br/>Older readers may be familiar with the original Oddwick, but know that we did a reboot with a new format.</p><p>Oddwick Isles is typed live on our Discord, where readers can vote for certain paths and interactions, and then is transcripted onto Tapas. Subscribe to Oddwick on Tapas if you like it- doing so is free and if Oddwick reaches 100 subscribers we'll actually be paid for the ads that are forcibly inserted inbetween chapters.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0072"><h2>72. Petty Poppet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's dumb, she thinks.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>At some point, Pacifica and Mabel realized between the two of them that they don't actually <em>know</em> what a reverend looks like.</p><p> </p><p>Google images it was then.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you do this kind of stuff alot?" Pacifica casually asks as she thumbs through Mabel's stock of reference photos.</p><p> </p><p>"Kind of? I've been making my own clothes for forever, so I'm like- super good at sewing. Sock puppets are pretty easy for me."</p><p> </p><p>"That's cool, I guess," Pacifica politely offers, and she kind of even sounds like she means it. "That you can just do art stuff like that, I mean. My parents would never let me do something like that just 'cause unless it was like, for a PR thing."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I didn't really do it just 'cause. I kind of-" Mabel trails off.</p><p> </p><p>Now that she has to say it out loud, it kind of sounds so... dumb.</p><p> </p><p>"-I kind of did it for a boy," Mabel quietly finishes. "But with all the stuff that's going on right now, it kind of feels stupid to care about summer romances. I even forgot his name." She fiddles with the priest collar for the reverend costume. "But I put up such a big deal about the show I feel like I kind of <em>have</em> to go on with it, y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well..." Pacifica idles for a moment. "Stop me if I'm wrong, but, like- do you <em>have</em> to do it for <em>him?  </em>'Cause like, fuck guys, y'know? <em>You're </em>the one putting this together, not him. Why not just do it for yourself?"</p><p> </p><p>Huh.</p><p> </p><p>She... <em>has a point</em>, there.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." Mabel sits up with a bit more confidence. "Yeah! <em>Fuck guys! </em>This'll be the most girl-powered production this side of the Coast!"</p><p> </p><p>"As it should be."</p><p> </p><p>Mabel grabs Pacifica in a tight hug. "Thanks, Paz. I needed to hear that."</p><p> </p><p>Pacifica looks away, a little red-faced. "Yeah. Whatever."</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Make sure to share feedback on ciphers! We want to know if things were solvable or done properly!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0073"><h2>73. Duckout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The final curtain</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Wendy</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hey, you good?</p>
<p>You haven't checked in since you called in sick.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm feeling better :)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You sure?</p>
<p>I know you've been going through some shit at home,</p>
<p>you know my door's always been open if you need to load off.</p>
<p>Everyone at the Shack misses you because they're babies.</p>
<p>Hell, even Ford asked about you when you weren't at the desk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm fine, Mr. Pines!</p>
<p>You and Sixer don't need to worry about me!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Alright.</p>
<p>If your sure.</p>
<p>Are you feeling up for Mabel's afterparty?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh don't worry!</p>
<p>You'll see plenty of me after the show :)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mm.</p>
<p>Mabel's shouting for phones off, so I'll stop bothering you with my old man talk.</p>
<p>Have fun, ok?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You got it!</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0074"><h2>74. Joyrider- Scene I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two girls go out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Wendy whispers as the rest of the crew goes out the door, “everybody’s leavin’, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well there </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> alot of puppets,” Mabel concedes, “and we </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only two gals who really know how to handle ‘em.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re really gonna let them start the afterparty without you, Miss Producer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s already set up!” Mabel easily shoots back. “They don’t need to wait for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wendy scratches at her mask. “Sucks that everyone’s kind of leaving you behind, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told them it was fine,” Mabel refutes, “ and besides, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean the party, I mean, like.... the Stans are gonna go on their sailing thing, Soos is gonna take the Shack, Dipper’s got that whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>apprentice</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing or whatever.” Wendy squints. “And you’re just gonna… go back home. And that’s it. Doesn’t that freak you out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>guess</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s almost like no one would miss you if you never showed up to the party.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...What are you saying?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=&lt;&gt;=</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Az</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Uncle az can you tell mabel we got those mini taco</span>
</p><p>
  <span>shells that she wanted for her weird snack board?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t actually know what to do with it</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I thought she was with you?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isn’t she at the party</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...No.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>WAIT HAS ANYONE SEEN WENDY</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0075"><h2>75. Joyrider- Scene II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Laughing lost in long rides, lost inside unending pines.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We encourage people to solve the ciphers if they can and post the results in the comments! That way we know the cipher is still properly solvable and that there weren't any errors involved.</p><p>It's okay if you couldn't solve all of it at once, you can share your progress anyway! Our Discord is also free to discuss unsolved ciphers if the code crackers can find each other.</p><p>When <em>Hole Puncher</em> is done (and it's nearing that point), we will release the solved ciphers as a compilation in the companion guide fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>“Don’t people usually put both hands on the wheel?” Mabel asks.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine!” Wendy brushes off, looking to the side of the road. “As long as you keep your eyes forward no one’s gonna ride you over it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where are we even going anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno,” Wendy sighs. “Anywhere, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>A silence.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just kind of stupid, isn’t it?” Wendy starts up again. “You put in all that work to stand out, do something fun, and people just… have your party without you. So, like, <em> fuck them </em>, right? We don’t have to show up if that’s how it’s gonna be!”</p><p> </p><p>(Her hands are shaking.)</p><p> </p><p>“Wendy,” Mabel slowly breaches, “are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“And it’s like,” Wendy’s voice shakes on, as if Mabel had never said anything at all, “it’s like no one gives a fuck about you when the fun’s over. When <em>you’re</em> no fun anymore. It’s like…”</p><p> </p><p>A shaking, tear-filled sound.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> ...it’s like no one would miss us if we were gone </em>,” she whispers.</p><p> </p><p>“Wendy, what are you-”</p><p> </p><p>With a grim determination, Wendy grabs both hands on the steering wheel and she <em> pulls </em>.</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wendy? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Wendy!” Mabel coughs as she shoulders past the wreckage. “Wendy, are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p><em> There. </em> Behind the broken door. Mabel shoves the crumpled metal out of the way, and Wendy sparks to life with wet, horrid coughs.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Oooooh my god, you’re bleeding </em> .” Mabel looks down on herself. “Oh jeez, we both got banged up, we need to- we need to call somebody- <em> whose car is this? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>For a few wheezing breaths, Wendy doesn’t say anything at all until she slumps forward, shoulders shaking.</p><p> </p><p><em> Laughing </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Hahaha<b>HAHA, </b> <b> <em>WOW,</em> </b> <b> RED REALLY LOST HER </b> <b> <em>MARBLES</em> </b> <b> THERE, DIDN’T SHE?</b> ” A foreign voice twists past Wendy’s jaw. “ <b>BLAME ME ALL YOU LIKE, BUT </b> <b> <em>I’M </em> </b> <b>NOT THE ONE THAT TRIED TO DRIVE YOU TWO OFF A CLIFF.</b>”</p><p> </p><p>“What- what are you-” Mabel scrabbles back. “<em> What are you? </em>Where’s Wendy?”</p><p> </p><p>“<b>C’MON, SHOOTING STAR. I KNEW YOU WERE THE DUMB TWIN, BUT YOU DON’T EVEN RECOGNIZE ME? I’M HURT!</b> ” ‘Wendy’ smiles. <b>“AFTER ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER IN YOUR FREAK UNCLE’S HEAD, I THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE LEFT A BETTER IMPRESSION, Y’KNOW.</b>”</p><p> </p><p><em> Bill. </em>“W-what do you want?”</p><p> </p><p>“<b>IT’S REALLY NOTHING PERSONAL, SWEETHEART,</b> ” Bill squints into its skull splitting smile as it picks up Wendy’s axe from the remains of the dashboard. “ <b>I JUST NEED TO TRIM SOME L̷̦̎O̶̢̯͓̅Ȯ̸̖̙S̸͔͑̽͗Ë̴̮͉́̒ ̶͎͐͊͝Ē̸̘̅Ṉ̵͆̋͘D̷̢̟͔̓̍̓Ș̷̃̎.</b>”</p><p> </p><p>Bill tilts Wendy’s head. Red hair scatters fire in the sunset, falling over the crocodilian sheen of golden eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“<b>I SWEAR IT WON’T HURT A BIT.</b> ” Wendy’s spindled arms raise the battered axe with all the grace of a loose puppet. “ <b>IT’LL ONLY HURT IF YOU </b> <b> <em>DODGE!</em> </b>”</p><p> </p><p>Mabel’s legs start working again just in time to hear the windrush of an axe clunk hollowly into the dirt next to her, catching on her hair as she rolls away. </p><p> </p><p>Her hands slip and dig for Wendy’s phone on the ground, stowing it in the pocket of her sweater, and laughter echoes in her mind as she runs into the pines.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0076"><h2>76. Steven's Here To Help!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Now don't touch that dial.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Calling BOSSMAN…</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>WENDY? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where the fuck have you been-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>G-grunkle Stan?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, shit-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mabel, sweetie, is that you? What are you doing on Wendy’s phone, hun?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[There’s sobbing, muffled by static.]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...Are you okay? Where’s Wendy?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a car crash and she-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>CAR CRASH? </span>
  <em>
    <span>FUCK-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t her fault, it- it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bill!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bill got into her and she-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A clicking sound.]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, mimma.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Az? Is that you?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s me, It’s me. You okay right now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...No.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why does your voice sound funny?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Don’t freak out, but I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little </span>
  </em>
  <span>bit directly broadcasting into the phone right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You’re possessing Wendy’s phone like a ghost?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bit, yes. I’m trying to key in on your location so we can get you safe, okay?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Don’t hurt Wendy! It’s not her fault, she’s getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>sock puppeted</span>
  </em>
  <span> by that- that stupid </span>
  <em>
    <span>corn chip-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m not gonna hurt anyone, alright? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just wanna get you out of there so we can… </span>
  <em>
    <span>deal with this</span>
  </em>
  <span> without worrying about you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Are you alone right now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, but Bendy’s chasing after me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bendy???</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill Wendy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I lost her in the woods, but I don’t know if it’ll last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Is the phone good for battery?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mmhm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You keep the phone on and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep going</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Get as lost as you can, alright?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> I’ll be able to find you no matter what, but we gotta make sure Bill </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We’re gonna be fine, Mabel. You're gonna be fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A shaking sigh.]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'll be okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We’ll see you soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0077"><h2>77. It Starts Something Like This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with a Gem that Stanford has learned to call Steven.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with a Diamond’s eyes, and a Diamond’s song, and an anger so personal it might just be human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with shame. It starts with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>debt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bill Cipher didn’t want you to be found. Tell me why.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=&lt;&gt;=</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with a mason jar from Gideon Gleeful, the bolo of the ball with the jar to end it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with Dipper Pines, the strange twin boy with an eye for shapes, a morbid taste for the art of dead dark things, and the ten drops of blood he’d collected once on a whim, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just in case</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with Mabel Pines, the odd twin girl with an affection for art, a knack for knits, and a shining spirit of chaos. (Clever, clever girl. It just might end with her, if she can last every second longer.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>It starts with Jesus Ramirez, a </span><em><span>family</span></em> <em><span>man</span></em><span>- no Pines by blood, but has the roots to fit in regardless- and the simple fact that anything that goes under his hammer comes out the other side just short of unbreakable, even something so vague as a drop of blood.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with Wendy Corduroy, the head of fire and heart of ice- and her wayward soul, lost while someone else walks away with her body and hacks away with her axe. It is here that it starts with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Robbie Valentino</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the broken heart who could see souls out the window of his parents’ funeral home from the moment he could walk, who gets into a truck with Wendy’s father and looks at police scanners for any recent car crashes.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It starts with Pacifica Northwest, the girl who had it all, slipping out her window by her rope of knotted curtains with naught but the pack on her back and the sweater she wears. It starts with having the best phone signal money can buy, and the panic that clumps in her throat when the line drops to static.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with Fiddleford McGucket, the hazardous hermit of the junkyard, who grabs a memory gun off the hidden compartment of a house he helped build, and does not run.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with Stanley Pines, the man who waited, rolling up his sleeves and brushing off his knuckles. It starts with Stanford Pines, the man who searched, with the runes he tells his brother to carve into the walls, the basement that gets cleared while they do, and it starts with the borrowed can of spray paint getting utterly wasted on the floor. (Wasted on circles, on geometries he hasn’t dared to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about in 30 years, in ten symbols trapped in ten compartments.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It begins with the circle, constantly spinning, always rearranging, but never gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…It might just end with a man named Steven, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>jewel</span>
  </em>
  <span> among men. No one can really say- least of all him. Made for human lives, but made even more for the simple fact that all things must end, one way or another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does so </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see things go- that, too, is his nature. But he remembers everything he’s ever ended- he’s done it before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(It ends.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=&lt;&gt;=</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It begins and it ends with Lion- Lion, who never needs to ask, who takes the soft line of song Steven gives him and wastes no time. He roars into the woods- it is precisely 3 minutes and 25 seconds when he returns with Mabel, gently scruffed by her sweater but mercifully alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It ends with Steven- things often do- but before it does, he pauses. He turns to Stanley, he turns to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stanford</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you coming?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baseball bats, brass knuckles, battered, forgotten guns- old hands and old magic in the things they’ve held, hoarded like spiteful dragons. There is no question, only grim answers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so they went- and so it ends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=&lt;&gt;=</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It ends with </span>
  <em>
    <span>remembrance</span>
  </em>
  <span>- remembering that the body in front of them is but a container for Bill, and has no part in this fight. (Remembrance, like spiders crawling on his skin, of what it felt like to be the same.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is remembrance and spite and just a little vengeance when Stanford turns that blaster </span>
  <em>
    <span>away</span>
  </em>
  <span> from Wendy’s body and into the ground. Again and again, because while Bill Cipher may have the benefit of experience to broaden his intelligence, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>height</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his thinking was not near as infallible as he had pretended. Every twisted laugh falling out of Wendy’s body is another second Bill doesn’t notice the way the missed gunshots are veering with an increasingly circular arc that’s about to close on them all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s Bill being baited by Stanley’s colorful insults and swinging knuckles long enough to miss Steven clipping out of the trees like a game glitch, the living flashbang that tackles Wendy’s body out of a now closed circle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s Bill not noticing the toxic pink lining the eyes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>all three of them </span>
  </em>
  <span>until it’s already too late, tracking his puppetless ghost as it hangs with all the grace of a goldfish in its bowl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the numbing silence that follows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the body that hangs limp in Stanley’s arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well fuck,” Stanley barely gasps. “She’s still alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” Ford quips at his side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But blessed silence could never last. Steven quietly bubbles their heads, but even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t quite muffle the incoherent raging </span>
  <em>
    <span>noise</span>
  </em>
  <span> coming out of the circle. However briefly, the true voice of Bill Cipher is heard for the first and only time by mortal ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loud, formless- the sound of flooding locusts, of struck metal, of nails on chalkboards, of old televisions on dead channels. The sound of pure, all-encompassing </span>
  <em>
    <span>madness.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweet fucking Moses,” Ford wheezes as the bubble drops. “Is the jar gonna be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>handle</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Steven easily springs back, taking out the jar from his gem, “we did have Soos reinforce it. Should be able to tank it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Might wanna-” Stanley boxes at his own ear for a bit, trying to shake the ringing out. “Ya might wanna but an extra bubble on the little bastard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven hums. “Fair enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>=&lt;&gt;=</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stepping into the circle is like stepping into the high pressure of an ocean trench, a squeeze on his skull as he steps closer. Steven reminds himself that Cipher can’t actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, not physically, and this truth only barely comforts him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-THIS WON’T HOLD FOREVER-</b>
</p><p>
  <b>-WE BOTH KNOW IT-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he sighs, unscrewing a mason jar and the Cipher zodiac painted under its lid with blood, “but it’ll hold long enough. Do us both a favor </span>
  <b>
    <em>and go to sleep.</em>
  </b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>A single eye fills with panic, then fury, and then he’s gone. The silence falls again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(It ends.)</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0078"><h2>78. When Gravity Falls,</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>and Earth becomes sky...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter was additionally proofread by Rocket999, InvaluableOracle, and BattleBlaze.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey there, sweetheart.” Dan plops down on the seat next to Wendy. “You doin’ alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm.” </p><p> </p><p>The injuries are gone now- there’s enough wizard nonsense in the house to have taken care of that ages ago. But the bags under her eyes are real, just like the shake that hasn’t yet left her hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’know-” He sighs. If only the town could see him now, they’d never believe he could get so quiet. He rocks his head on his words for a moment, settling instead for a steady hand on her shoulder. “They can wait. You can do this when you’re more ready.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m never gonna be ready, Dad. I just wanna get this over with so I can start fucking sleeping again.”</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>It’s weird on a level of cosmic coincidence that they all happened to be there, when it was time. It taken McGucket’s oddly convenient invitation and Grunkle Ford’s clever guesses that brought them all to the circle in the basement and the humble mason jar sitting smack dab in the middle.</p><p> </p><p>Az had no place in this Zodiac, and he never tried for it. Aside from the one time he’d given the Stans that weird temporary power boost to trap Bill, he stayed clear out of the ritual stuff altogether.</p><p> </p><p><em> Human magic </em>. He wasn’t quite compatible, he’d said. So he stayed out of the way until it was time, and even then he’d sort of stood aside, sitting in the basement’s observation room.</p><p> </p><p>And he’d asked them to say one last goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>“Why the fuck would I go and do that?” Dipper spits next to Mabel. “He tried to kill my sister! And Wendy! He even tried to get to <em> you! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Because we’re about to end someone’s life,” Az gently points out, “and that’s very, <em> very </em> sad. No matter who it’s happening to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Dipper’s anger quiets down. “I guess that’s true.”</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Hey there, Mr. Triangle dude. We’ve met. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It feels really weird to hold a grudge, I’m- I’m really not that kind of dude, you feel me? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But you really did some messed up stuff to Mr. Pines and Mr. Pines, and I’m not really sure I can forgive a dude that does that to mi familia. So… bye, dude. I hope the next life treats you better or something. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You turned me into a sock puppet and mindfucked me over so many ways I think I’m gonna be on meds for like the rest of my life. I don’t have anything nice to say to you. Fuck you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You messed with my family. You’re getting messed back. If this was private I’d say a lot more shit but you’re not even worth that. I hope I go get some shitty concussion when I’m 92 and just forget about you forever. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I already said my shit, Bill. You tried to kill my sister. If there’s a hell, you better go burn in it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can’t say I really hate you all that much. Pa always said there’s no use ragin’ on someone who done you no wrong ‘imself. Maybe I’m only where I’m at because you lived and you messed things around. I can respect that. Can’t say I like you, though. You’re proper insane, is what you are. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I used to think you were my friend. Maybe I still do. There was a time I would have done anything for you, and… I guess I tricked myself into thinking you’d felt the same. Maybe you did, in your own way. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But I suppose that no longer matters. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Goodbye, my oldest enemy. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I kind of snuck out of the family estate to do this voodoo magic circle bullshit, so like- die quick, or whatever. I’ve got a big party to set up. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re a real jerk, Bill. Thanks for the axe haircut, I think I’m gonna keep it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You possessed my best friend. I hope you rest in peace, you ghost nacho fuck. That’s a threat. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re gonna be driftin’ the rest of my crazy-ass nightmares ‘till the day I die. I nearly tore my brain t’ bits over you. Good fucking riddance. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>=&lt;&gt;=</p><p> </p><p>If anything… if anything, Bill Cipher looks almost resigned. Their words ring oddly quiet in the blankness of empty time and space, the high grate of their normal voice sanded to a low monotone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-HAVE YOU COME TO KILL ME-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I could,” Steven admits.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-YOU’RE STILL GOING TO PRETEND TO BE THAT NICE-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not being nice,” Steven corrects. There’s nothing in this place, but when he leans back, his body hangs suspended like he’d sat in a chair. “I’m just not dumb enough to try it. You <em> predate </em> the dream realm by all accounts. If I let you be destroyed entirely, I’m not sure what would happen to all the poor minds connected to it.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-SO YOU’VE TRICKED THOSE HUMANS, THEN-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-IT SEEMS WE’VE REACHED AN IMPASSE-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> did </em> find a very clean solution. I can’t let you go, of course, but I still can’t let you die.” Steven lets his hand twirl idly for a moment. “The energy field the Zodiac generates is malleable. I could simply redirect it from killing you and only… give you a fresh start.”</p><p> </p><p><b>-YOU KNOW BETTER THAN MOST THAT’S JUST A DIFFERENT KIND OF DEATH, </b> <b> <em>ROSIE</em> </b> <b>-</b></p><p> </p><p>Steven’s eye twitches at the jab. “Maybe. But I can’t afford to care about saving <em> you </em>. I just don’t want your parts to hurt anyone else beyond the grave.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-TOUCHY-</b>
</p><p>
  <b>-AREN’T YOU DIAMONDS SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECTLY IMPARTIAL-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t <em> you </em> supposed to be trying to live longer, considering the situation?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>-WILL IT MAKE A DIFFERENCE-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I guess you’ve got a point.” Steven tilts his head. “I wish I could say this isn’t personal, but I’d be lying, really. I can’t say I want you dead, but… I <em> do </em> want you <em> gone. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Blue fire crackles and rises around them.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodbye. I hope you do better next time.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <em>  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is your final cipher.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0079"><h2>79. Journal Entry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jul. 27, 2012</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill Cipher is dead, or something like it. It has been reduced to an unrecognizable, flickering shadow of its former self, never to return to its old glory.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Xir Radiance insists this is mostly the Zodiac’s doing, but I have other suspicions. The Gem species directly consumes many forms of emitted energy, and as a being with a body made of projected energy, I suspect Bill was… cannibalized, for lack of a better term.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel, in some ways, I have simply exchanged one “muse” for another, though to the credit of this new one, xe tries to be a friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And my family is safe- both from xem and anything else that may come between us now. If this is the deal I have taken, it is more than enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>THE DREAMER</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All that’s left is some sort of… small floating pyramid that’s manifested in the containment jar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever remains of Cipher lies within, entrusted to the Diamond’s care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Xe contemplated leaving it to us, to the Zodiac, but F has Seen that this is a better way for now. The Dreamer shall sleep for a long, long time until there’s sufficient cosmic force to awaken it again, and that could take anywhere from years to </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>centuries</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>. Better to leave it with someone who cannot lose memory of its importance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>My Apprentice!</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel it prudent to mention that I have chosen my grand-nephew, our cycle’s Pinetree, as my apprentice. With him, we shall expand and unveil our esoteric knowledge to the world.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I shall expand my studies. Expand my Journals. And then, one day, I hope to pass it on to him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s harrowing to realize how entrenched this family is in the weirdness of the universe, but I can’t say I’d have it any other way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0080"><h2>80. Upcoming!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things to come.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><hr/><h1 class="title single-title entry-title">GRAVITY FALLS</h1><h1 class="title single-title entry-title">
  <strong>~OREGON~</strong>
</h1><hr/><p> </p><p><strong>MUSIC BY: </strong>Scarves Indoors, Wood Grain on Everything, The Love God, The Handlebar Bros., Ornery Vegans, Creepy Nerd, Wizard Mode, DJ OK, Edgy Triangle, Mom Jeans, Lawrence + the Bicycles, Bearantula, &amp;, Dracula Weekday, Boyz II Infantz, 2Eighty, Boston Massachusetts, No Raisin, Pinball, Sadie Killer and the Suspects, Mike Krol, SC Yellowkid, Shepherd and Clover, Mr. Universe, Robbie V and the Tombstones, The Philosophy Majors</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mike Krol is a real musician who played himself in the Steven Universe episode <em>Last One Out Of Beach City</em> and co-composed the song "Disobedient" from the movie.</p><p>(yes i redrew the woodstick logo what are you a cop)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0081"><h2>81. Twitter- @SadieAndTheSuspects</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK</strong>
</p><p>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p> </p><p>Sadie Killer and the Suspects.</p><p>An Beach City based artist group with <strong>@scYELLOwkid</strong>, <strong>@ShepherdNClover</strong>, <strong>@DocDewey</strong>, and <strong>@JJPizza</strong>.</p><p> </p><p>(o) Beach City  [#] Joined November 2004</p><p> </p><p><strong>10 </strong>Following  <strong>5.1 </strong><strong>Mil</strong> Followers</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK </strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p><strong>@ShepherdNClover</strong> and <strong>@scYELLOWKID</strong> will be at Gravity Falls' annual WoodStick music festival.</p><p>|</p><p><strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK </strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p><strong>@DocDewey</strong> and <strong>@JJPizza</strong> will also be there! Y'all know what that means</p><p>|</p><p><strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK </strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p>Sadie Killer and the Suspects WILL BE LIVE, AT WOODSTICK!</p><p>|</p><p><strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK </strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p>Sadie Killer and the Suspects are going through a series of reunion concerts through 2012 for different charities.</p><p>|</p><p><strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK </strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p>All WoodStick proceeds go DIRECTLY to the NY Disaster fund. That includes the <strong>@scYELLOWKID</strong> and <strong>@ShepherdNClover</strong> WoodStick shows as well!</p><p> </p><p><strong>Professional Bazillionaire </strong>@MrUNIVERSE</p><p>For every dollar <strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</strong> gets for charity, I'll match that donation down to the cent.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Professional Bazillionaire </strong>@MrUNIVERSE</p><p>I've been to WoodStick a few times myself, but it's always a treat to see young artists on stage!</p><p>|</p><p><strong>Professional Bazillionaire </strong>@MrUNIVERSE</p><p>It'll be my first time performing there, though. Hope the stage fright doesn't choke me out, hah!</p><p> </p><p><strong>i wanted to see you laughing, in the pizza rain </strong>@DocDewey</p><p><strong>@MrUNIVERSE</strong> continues to be The Only Rich Person</p><p> </p><p><strong>Keep New York Weird </strong>@KeepBeachCityWeird</p><p>Congrats to <strong>@sheppyboi</strong> and <strong>@itsmedonutgirl</strong>, and their band <strong>@ShepherdNClover</strong>! It's inspiring to see openly LGBT/POC content creators make it big</p><p> </p><p><strong>Moonbase Alpha Audio </strong>@TheSuspectsSlay</p><p>quick question who makes the<strong> @SadieAndTheSuspects </strong>cover art because it absolutely slaps</p><p> </p><p><strong>LIVE AT WOODSTICK </strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects</p><p><strong>@MrUNIVERSE </strong>does the cover art for all the bands he manages, even his own stuff!</p><p> </p><p><strong>Moonbase Alpha Audio </strong>@TheSuspectsSlay</p><p><strong>@SadieAndTheSuspects </strong>bro w h a t</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0082"><h2>82. An Invitation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We hope you'll show.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>You have been invited to</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The 150th Northwest Fest!</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since its grand opening in 1862, the annual Northwest Fest, hosted by the Northwest family, has prided itself for hosting a diverse collection of the most influential and powerful people of the modern age.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In recognition of your status, you are invited to engage in the company of other persons of your rare caliber while experiencing the unique, </span>
  <em>
    <span>exclusive</span>
  </em>
  <span> hospitality of the Northwest ancestral estate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Our hospitality includes personalized gifts and greetings, a complementary guestbook, personal chauffeurs to and from the event, as well as lodgings for both you and your chosen guests and/or attendants in our plentiful estate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner shall be served at 9.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>RSVP promptly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Northwest family is expecting you.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is the end of <em>We Coded The Oregon Trail With A Hole Puncher And There's Nothing You Can Do About It</em>. We don't regret it in the slightest but the fic ended up far longer than originally planned. It's about <em>The Hole Puncher Project</em>, which has been closed with Bill's defeat, so that's a good place to end it.<br/>But I wanted to leave you with these closers to show you this isn't the end of our Gravity Falls content in FADIAMT! We're still looking forward to the WoodStick festival, as well as the Northwest Fest.</p><p>The Northwest Fest fic, <em>Northwest Noir</em>, is going to be... different, and a bit more ambitious than our usual fare, and thus will not begin posting until <em>Prodigal Suns</em> has been finished, which as of this note being written is approaching its last arc.</p><p>The ciphers used in this fic will eventually be posted into the companion guide with solutions, but we'll wait a little longer for people to keep trying to solve what's posted.</p><p>Thank you for reading! The Pines family will see you again soon!</p><p>-Aenor</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Comment, critique, and despaired cries of incomprehension all welcome.<br/>Join the Discord server for draft bits, behind the scenes nonsense, yearning questions of my questionable literary choices, and future stories. Consider looking at ways to support us by visiting our twitter!<br/><a href="https://discord.gg/xdhnqKj">my Discord server</a><br/><a href="https://twitter.com/aenorllelo">my Twitter</a></p><p>This series now has a dedicated written timeline for the curious in the series companion guide, which is the last "fic" listed in the series page.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>